SlyCooper Book1: Lament of Carmelita
by Kit-Karamak
Summary: This story is finished! Starting with nightmares about Sly Cooper's death, Carmelita sets out to find him and make sure that someone else doesn't kill her prized catch. THANK YOU for all the reviews! read BOTH sequels, Spy Cooper and Dawn of Progeny! edit- A reader requested that I change it to "M". 9/27/2012
1. A Nightmare starts us off

The Lament of Carmelita

Act 1: The Waltz

By Ken Weaver

Aka

Kit Karamak

Disclaimer: I don't really think one is really necessary. Due to the fact that this story is written for entertainment purposes only, you the reader may not sell or distribute this story for money, in any way. Sly, Carmelita, Bentley, Clockwork and all the characters that are Trade Marks of their owners, are copy-written intellectual properties of the Sony corp. and Sucker Punch. If you repost this story, be nice and keep my name attached to it. I mean, I can't help it if you don't, I don't own the story, so it's not like I can sue you if you steal it and claim it's yours….. But anyhow. Disclaimer's are lamers.

_She didn't care that Sly is a Robin Hood-kinda guy who solely steals from deserving criminals. She didn't care that Sly has the hots for her_. _She only wanted to 'tag and bag' his ass.

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_

Chapter 1: Nightmare

**Sly glanced over his shoulder, narrowing his** eyes. Off in the other room, Bentley was working his magic and Cooper had to make things last, due to the tortes' handicap. He didn't quite move as quickly as he used to, not that turtles moved fast to begin with. The raccoon brought his eyes back to the task at hand. He knew his friend managed well enough in his fancy little wheel chair, that's all that mattered.

Outside the large room no longer mattered. Sly shifted his gaze back to that of the vixen, who raked her soft cobalt orbs back to his own. Hers were contacts and with the way her head-fur was styled, it was obvious that she was incognito. It was ironic in a way, the two of them at a stand off, pretending to be someone they weren't.

They both knew who they were dealing with, although they both made the assumption that their own identity was secure. It was sad in a way; two soul mates would have to hide behind a mask in order to enjoy such a simple moment. And yet both were tortured by it. Both were yearning for something they knew they could never have… one another.

It happened before. In different ways, it happened. Their previous dances were sometimes revolving around a pair of handcuffs or around a town. This one was far more personal. Carmelita knew if she said something now, she'd be blowing her cover. The point was to let Sly's team escape with the merchandise. She wanted to follow them to where they slept.

But her emotions kept getting in the way. There was so much black and white in her life that it hardly seemed fair that a gray-furred man could step between where she drew the line between law and love. He was her bad man and her wish to catch him went from bordering on obsession to becoming completely and totally consumed by him.

And here he was. His supple yet firm paw came into her daintier paw. It was beginning again! His touch was graceful and tender, yet controlling and confident. His other paw came to her hip and she melted. A shiver ran up her spine, setting her body afire. Her mind screamed for reprieve. He was a liar, a thief and unjust in the eyes of her religion of law.

His body moved at odds for a moment, then slipped into step with hers, the dance had begun. He drew closer, so that they could shift in motion as one entity. Her heart was pounding and she feared that he could feel it once his chest came flush to her own. She could not help but submit to the sensuality of his step. She felt lost at the sensation of his warm breath that caressed her neck.

She clung to him the way a sailor clings to drift wood. At all the same time, she was the sea and he was the sky, rolling over her forever. Ungodly perfection in the form of the physical, she was a lost soul, guided in by his beacon of hope, love and in a twisted sense, honor.

Sly felt no better. He knew he had to be as cunning as a fox and she was the craftiest of all beings, as it were. He knew that all would be lost if he was unable to put on a façade of masculine fortitude. But the clandestine, surreptitious secret bubbled within him, gnawing at his heart. How long could he keep his feelings as covert as his missions?

He couldn't help but ponder what her intentions were. Did she want to lock him away forever or try to show him the way of change and reform? Did Carmelita want to show him defeat or did she want to protect him and secretly, subconsciously be the one to protect him from the law. Sly knew she was intelligent, why did she never catch him? Was it intentional? Was he that good? Did any question matter? After all, they were finally together.

He could feel her heart pounding against his chest and it pounded at his soul with every thunderous beat. It gnawed at his defenses and begged for him to, just once, come clean. He glanced furtively over his shoulder once more, but through the archway into the next section of the museum, he could see nothing. She drew his attention back with a soft sigh of content, which rustled the fur of his collarbone; he wanted to show her how much he desired her.

He couldn't resist any longer. After years of cat and mouse, he finally let go of logic for a moment and acted on impulsive, instinctual desire. "You're quite lovely when you're angry, but really, you're quite lovely all together," he mused softly. His words were softly spoken but smooth and reflected his sangfroid demeanor.

"You," she paused, burying her face into the crook of his neck. The perfect place on the perfect crook, "Bastard," She finally continued, speaking just loud enough that he could hear her words muffled against the fur of his neck. It surprised him really. He'd never heard her curse him in such a way before. Her emotions ran too high for her to be in control at this very moment. "I never want this to end, you know. If you just turn yourself in, it could be this way forever." Her whisper held a promise of fulfillment and love.

"I know you can never understand just who I truly am," He returned, his muzzle against the vixen's ear. "But know, deep down, that my intentions aren't on par with the likes of Clockwork."

"It doesn't matter," She murmured against his neck as the two moved together in rhythm of the ambient music that filled the abandoned lobby, "Jaywalking is just as wrong as murder. You're doing something that's against the will of Lawfulness."

"If I'm such a wrong man," Cooper said, easing his paw from her hip, to lift her chin, so that their eyes locked, "Than why does _this_ feel so right?" He asked, replacing his inquiry with his lips meshing against hers. The brushing velvety tiers of Carmelita Montoya Fox were so lush and so welcoming. The kiss felt like home and in both dancers, an incredible explosion of emotion ruled their hearts, making one belong to the other completely, if only for that instant.

The kiss was long. It wasn't just good, it was _incredible_. It lasted as long as their breath could hold out because it had taken such a precious luxury away from both. She was the first to recover, breaking the kiss but hiding her face back into his neck once more. "You rascal thief. You steal my work, you steal my heart and now you steal my breath," She scolded in soft, dulcet tones. "I hate you," She added untruthfully. She wanted it to be true. She wanted those words to be more than a lie, more than anything else in the world.

"Carmelita," Sly whispered into her ear. However gentle his voice, it was silky and relaxing with the firm masculinity in which he spoke to her. Tones that were smooth like the finest whisky poured from aged oak barrels. It melted through her cold, iron-willed heart, "I love you." To his softly spoken statement, she was undone. He loved her. Everything changed. Her world was a different one and for the first time, she secretly mourned herself because she was living a lie.

"Sly, I…" She paused, finding the courage within herself to say it back. A soft rumble shook her back to reality. Sly played it off with a cough, but the rumble was one of a plan going sour. An explosive that was meant for the safe must have either been miscalculated or quite possibly, it went off prematurely. Worse, it reminded her of the man with whom she dealt. Someone who was dangerous and as explosive as the thought-breaking noise they both heard.

"Say it," He demanded with but a breath upon her ear. The command caused a shiver to run back down her spine, but now there was challenge in her soul, one that his love was threatening. She had to break free; she _had_ to break his spell!

"Never," She hissed softly, placing her paws against his. She then smiled up at him. Sly lowered his eyes slowly, panning over her luscious feminine visage and ending on where their paws met. A metallic cuff went from her wrist to his wrist, connected together by tiny metal links. This wasn't part of her plan; in fact, it was ruining everything she'd gone through to set this whole thing up tonight. And yet, she felt vindicated.

"You mine, that's all that matters," She told him, leaning to brush her muzzle against the side of his own, then pulling back to let him see that Cheshire grin. She was victorious. She was the cat who finally captured the canary.

"Carmelita, listen. Just this once," Cooper replied to her mild gloating, "You've got to let me go. I can't explain now, but it has to happen," he said in a pleading voice.

"Are you serious? I have you," she exclaimed. "Last time I brought you in, you got away. This time, I'm not removing those cuffs until your court date," She explained with an air of satisfaction.

"Carmelita Montoya," Sly said, the way her father would say when she strayed from her truest duties. Her bottom lip quivered. How could he be so commanding? How could she love him! Sly continued, "As much as I would hate to stand you up on a date," retorted the raccoon.

"Forget it," interrupted the vixen; officer of the law, not to be forgotten even in a moment that was nearly blissful. "If I let you go, I'll never get this chance again," Miss Fox groused, lifting her narrowed gaze up to him. Those brilliant oculars were squinted and yet behind lush lashes, her eyes were dilated, taking in every action he could think to make, to keep him from living up to his first name.

She had no plans to release him, even if it meant for her to stay in his cell with him, over night. Bentley could wait. She'd let that one get away, the object he was taking was more important to taking down the rest. It was, after all, a rigged homing device; but without a leader, she knew that she was securing the entire group's complete capture.

Suddenly, without warning, a shattering noise commanded the attention of them both. Her ears flickered before her eyes could even lift. Glass shards floated about them and time itself seemed to slow to a crawl. It fluttered about their bodies like snowfall, capturing refracted light so that it was a dazzling, brilliant display of tiny objects, surrounding them in an almost ethereal swirl of fantasy beauty.

Her arm was forced upwards, pulled by the metallic chain which connected them. Cooper's arm was lifting to protect their faces from the falling razors that dropped from above in a volley of potentially lethal rain. The shower of glass pelted their bodies and beneath the protection of Sly's arm, she cringed, waiting for it to end. It was all happening so slowly that she was able to gather her thoughts in the never ending moment.

Above them, the ceiling of the decadent glass spire tumbled forth. Cooper's eyes lifted and in those obsidian pools, she could see the reflection of their undoing. A chandelier fell from the heavens, enveloping them in the shadow of the object. Her body was jolted and before she could realize what was happening, Sly had pivoted, shifting his weight forward to bowl her over.

His comforting weight surrounded her body and she knew, in that moment, that she was safe. He was her security, and in that, she experienced a taste of trust, for the first time in her life. Over his shoulder, she could see upwards. It was Clockwork, in his full, sadistic glory. A sardonic grin touched its metallic looking beak. Her muzzle parted in an attempt to utter a vituperative word of curse but something harsh filled her ears.

Hues of the most agonizing sun-swept crimson danced with the very mirth of hell itself. Those eyes belonged to non-other than Sly Cooper above her. His disdainful cry of anguish ended with him easing up onto one paw and lowering his head. She glanced down between their bodies and that's when her heart shattered in an instant.

Time seemed to speed back up to normal and a gush of scarlet poured from his stomach. He'd protected her from the falling glass, only to succumb to its wrath. His muzzle parted into the shape of an 'O', the way a soldier reacted when being shot for the first time. The sanguine vitae that flooded forth, matting her gown and the fur beneath in its warmth was horrifying. His body was in shock and the first words he could mutter would live with her forever.

The chilling acknowledgement of a man so strong brought her to tears. "So… cold," he moaned. It was like the sensation of ice slipping between his ribs, and there was nothing he could do. His life was slipping away in a garnet geyser that took her breath away. But this time, she was robbed of hope as well. His eyes glazed over and she was reflected in the milky cataracts that stole her window to the emotions of his heart, his soul. He was gone; Sly Cooper was dead.

Her muzzle parted once more and she wailed in mourning. It was a cry that would shatter all forms of subtlety everywhere. She forced her torso into a sitting position, squinting her eyes shut for a moment before prying them open once more. She had to verify the grizzly end of the only man that she could ever call mate… but there was only gloom.

In this obscurity, she reached out, groping into it. Was she blind? Where was Sly? Her arms passed before her muzzle, drenched in the inky tendrils of ebony that seemed to have been wrapped around her eyes. Her heart was pounding again.

The vulpine cop's eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness and she almost instantly realized where she was; in bed, alone. Cold. Broken hearted. The covers were torn from her body, the way her emotions were ripped asunder from the calamitous vision that enveloped her senses only moments prior. Stumbling over the boots at the bottom of her bed, she found herself careening into the floor, which was all too happy to reach up and capture her body. She groaned at the sensation of being slapped across her snout by the firm floor tiles.

Her equilibrium was gone. Her heart was pounding and her mind worked hard to console her. "It was only a dream," she repeated to herself. Her body felt overheated and she quickly rolled over, onto her back. The buzz-kill junkie feeling of the adrenaline rush ended, causing her stomach to ice over and turn. The vertigo finally passed and Carmelita caught her breath, shaking her head slowly. She couldn't get _him_ out of her head and she despised him for it. Did she love him or did she hate him? Finally she found her voice and all she could manage was, "You're a bastard, Sly Cooper."

* * *

_A/N: Ooo, very dark. I don't mean to write Carmelita as a Bi-Polar woman, but she is portreyed as Emotional. I'm going to draw this bad boy out, so if they wind up together, apart, or a bit of both, it's up to my moods at the time I sit down to this. But this story is going to put her as the main character today. We'll have to see Sly being Sly, thevious, devious and evolving through her eyes, in a way. _

_Yeah, I know, I usually write StarFox stories... Thought I'd try my paw at this one for a change. It'll be slow at first, I need to buy these games, so I can really get jiggy wit it. So once I get dem jimmie-jams, I'm ready to rock'n'roll. _

Lata'

-Kit


	2. Suspended!

(A/N: _the author's note is at the bottom today, because it's long and I didn't want to eat the header_ :D )

Chapter 2: Suspension

**Carmelita Montoya Fox. She was intelligent and she had looks. She had attitude** and she could appear spirited on days when nobody was on her bad side. She destroyed the Hate Chip of Clockwerk; she had even managed to arrest the slightly younger Sly Cooper. But he always managed to escape. Last night, however, was different.

He didn't escape in her dream. She had allowed herself to be upset at the very thought of him when it was over but after sleeping on it, reflecting on the dream and letting it all sink in, she realized that it could easily be an omen, as well. It was twisted, in a way, just how much the two of them had gone through together. He lied to her about his amnesia but she had lied to him about his identity, to get him closer to her. They were meant for one another. The Tarot cards(#) told her that much. Her eyes shut; she didn't want to think about that.

"Who believes in Tarot Cards(#) anyhow?" (#: **Revealed in **_**Chapter3** -kit) _She asked aloud, suddenly startled by her own voice. There she sat, trying to allow the morning bath sooth her emotions yet she was only getting herself riled up. Leaning forward, Carmelita reached from the tub to the bathroom door knob, where her badge hung. She took the badge by its black chain, bringing it close to her eyes, holding it in the padded palm of her paw. She often wore it around her neck; it was a yellow metallic star engraved into a pentagon shaped badge-plate.

The padded bottom of her paw was still dry; she didn't want to get the object wet, really. It's not that the badge wasn't water proof; it was. She just had an amazing reverence for the metallic symbol. She drew her thumb across it slowly, forcing a soft smile. If Law was her religion, this badge was her crucifix necklace. It was who she was. It marked her and gave her a sense of identity.

She rolled her softly padded thumb across the nearly reflective golden surface. It was her rock of stability. If she was truly an island, this precious medallion was the rock which gave the atoll its earthy substance, anchoring her from drifting out to sea or metaphorically floating into the clouds, only to later plummet to a fool's demise. If anything, clouds were for the foolish. Black and white, the straight and narrow, is what helped to keep her on the interstate as opposed to going off road. With her luck, she'd wind up driving off the edge of the planet, somehow, if she didn't have an interstate by which to steer.

Her badge was the only thing that she loved more than her trusted shock pistol. Without her pistol, she was still an Agent, but without her badge, she was nothing. She tried to let its weight and smooth feel sooth and comfort her heart but something else was brewing, making it impossible to even hold her attention on any one object or thought.

Sylvester Cooper, aka 'Sly' Cooper. He was a touch younger than her but there was something in him that got her to think, sometimes. Were they reincarnated soul mates that happened to fall on the wrong side of the law from one another? It was better than falling on the same gender, she supposed, but she wasn't quite sure she totally _believed_ in reincarnation. She just couldn't pinpoint her draw to him. She didn't want to be labeled as '_obsessed'_ but deep down she knew the truth. She battled with it every day, how could she _not_ know it?

"For one day, we were partners; even _you_ can't deny it was wonderful," She said softly. Part of her wished he was there to hear and acknowledge it. "You claim to only rob from the deserving. Sounds more like a mercenary to me; why don't you just join Interpol?" She shook her head. She wasn't exactly a fan of holding monologues. Part of her wanted to throw the badge across the tiled floor but she adored it far too much.

It was then that she was shaken from her reverie so badly that her fur fluffed up, over her shoulders, neck and face above the bath water. Carmelita reached her paw up, snatching the cellular phone off of the tub ledge, flipping it open. "I'm not due into the office for another two hours, so this had better be good."

"Actually," came the voice at the other end, "You're off today; so very like you to come in on your day off," Replied the constable. "I had some new hardware for you to try out, thought you might want to participate."

"Not like the handcuff throwing gun, I hope," She grumbled in a sort of teasing way. The man on the other end couldn't hear it, but there was a grin tugging at the corner of her muzzle. "I like the shock gun, so I hope it's not weapon replacement hardware."

"Actually," the man repeated a second time. There was an ensuing dramatic pause before he continued with, "Not really. See, there's an expo in town for gadgets. The technology expo has brought in a lot of nerds from around the world. In fact, if you were really on top of the nerd world, you might even know that Sly Cooper's handicapped friend would be there, as well as their friend Penelope, but anyhow. The point is, the Chief feels that bringing in some smart nerds to display their latest gadgetry would be a plus. They'll be here in an hour."

"Like I said," Carmelita mused, "I'll see you in two." She didn't wait for an acknowledgement. She simply thumbed the cell phone shut and leaned back in the tub again. "Calgon, take me away," muttered the vixen, allowing her eyes to shut.

The essence of time disappeared for the voluptuous vulpine. Her reality slipped away and there were only two things in her world right now: the heated purity of the bath water and _him_. Her therapist had explained how her obsession was actually inhibiting her from catching him. The advice given was to get over him, forget about him and pretend he never existed. Then, she could come back later, fresh and open minded. She would have to look at him as just another case, in order to follow through with it. The more she involved herself personality, the more impossible the case would become.

"I don't even know you," She muttered. "You're a name on a piece of paper in a big file cabinet at the Office," She added, knowing it was of no use. She was lying to herself. Her therapist suggested that she find a boyfriend but her instincts suggested that capturing him was the only true way to put it all to rest. "If I don't get myself reassigned," She blurted out, "I'm going to wind up with a checkered career and a broken heart." While it wasn't quite true, she knew she had to put something else on her mind. Anything.

People simply didn't understand her. She may have been strong but she was emotional. Walking around, several stories tall, consumed by dark urges and an ill-will, just because of some stupid mask… being locked away in a gas chamber and rescued by her nemesis; she was embarrassed, really. She wanted to embrace their cat-and-mouse game but her emotions got in the way of that, as well. Now that things were slowing down to some extent, she looked at Sly with 20/20 hind-vision.

"Hindsight twenty-twenty," groused Fox. She didn't realize she was nearly falling asleep at this point. Her body was shutting down, attempting to flee into the depths of unconsciousness. If she could keep her mind clear, there would be no Sly waiting for her. Hot and cold, she loved him and hated him at the same time. She couldn't believe that she'd foolishly managed to fall for a man she hated a few short years ago. While she couldn't admit it publicly, she could finally admit it to herself. Hindsight, twenty-twenty.

Everything in the past was clear. His intentions, his actions, his … she was doing it again. She was _obsessing_. She changed her thoughts to something that didn't directly correlate to him, but instead, something that was partially related to herself. The dream.

Why _did_ she hide behind a pair of contacts and changed hair? Was her dream trying to tell her that she was hiding her true feelings from him? She couldn't understand how the dream was meant to relate to her every day life. What about Cooper's death? It was some sort of sacrifice to protect her, no less. She thought about how the shiver ran up her spine when he touched her, then back down when he demanded to hear her speak of love, shortly thereafter.

Was there significance in the directions of the shivers that crept over her spine in that dream? Worst of all, she had to wonder if Clockwerk, the freakish avian who had rebuilt his mortal body with mechanical parts to live through his vendetta, was able to return without the Hate Chip. She could only hope he was gone for good.

She could feel herself growing further into a deep state of Alpha, her eyes shut, her mind running but her body was finally relaxed. Some people called it a power-nap, but this was simply quiet time for a woman who had too much action in her life. After all, she didn't want to go crazy. She was stronger than that.

Before she realized it, she was entering the depths of REM sleep once more. Her eyes fluttered open just slightly and behind them, she witnessed another dream sequence. The first one, from last night, was based loosely on a dance they shared. This one was based on her subsequent _fantasies_ about how he never recovered from being Constable Cooper.

The vixen sat up in the tub, moments later, her eyes wide, screaming again. He was killed again, saving her from death at the cold metallic claws of Clockwerk. "He's dead! Clockwerk is DEAD!" She argued with the silence. "I've got to be going out of my mind. I know it, it's …" She paused. Work would sooth the savage beast welling up inside of her. "I'm losing my mind, I've got to be. I don't even give a damn about that thief," She muttered, drawing herself from the tub, unplugging it with a toe-claw. She pulled her body from the porcelain and stepped onto the bathroom floor, reaching for a towel.

Water ran down over the glossy coat of fur, and regardless of the saturation, the lotion she used kept her coat glossy, like a waxed car, so that it ran down, dripping dry instead of looking like a soggy furball. A playful thought came to mind, running the towel over her slender waist and yet over-all luscious frame. "I bet you're jealous of my bath towel, Raccoon." This was said with a smirk and once dry, she tossed the towel upon the bathroom floor, drying her hind-paws upon it. "You'd like me walking all over you, wouldn't you? Gah!" She simply shook her head and reached for the hair dryer.

"He doesn't exist," Snapped the vixen. After a change of demeanor, she cleared her throat. "New gear, this is going to be fun," She assured herself aloud, no longer caring or not if she was speaking to herself. As long as she didn't answer her own questions, she felt it should be relatively fine. The longest part about getting ready before work wasn't getting dressed or styling her hair. It was drying her fur. Once the curveatious, lithe yet voluptuous, full bodied woman was ready to walk out the door, her phone rang again.

There was no use answering it, it was probably Work and she wasn't in the mood to chat before walking into the office. She paused at the door of her apartment, stretching her legs out as she often did before jogging. Carmelita then bent back, stretching her lower lumbar then she quickly shoved the phone into her pocket, slipped through the door, locking it behind herself. From there, she began a brisk jog through downtown Paris to the main office, up the road.

* * *

**Sly Cooper, the thief raccoon**. Bentley was the brains and Murray was the brawn. A very odd group indeed. Murray was some sort of hippo or rhino, she rarely got a good look at the getaway driver. Although she has seen him on occasion. There was no tusk on his nose, so she was going to go with hippo. But she wasn't so sure she'd be lucky enough to run across them. It didn't happen _every_ time. She pondered, during her jog. 

Sly in town? No, just his friend Bentley. But what if Sly was snooping around, too? She put it out of her mind. The jog was refreshing. She arrived at the office, opening the door and taking the stairs today. Once she was on the fourth floor, Carmelita Fox opened the door to the large work office, with different desks on both sides of the wall. In the center, a speech was in progress, from one of the nerdy types.

"Interpol is the sum of its constituent parts but the gear in Lyon France is her pride and joy to communicate and stay global. We've developed a PDA that you can keep on your gear belt that will link you in with the database of not only that computer but other ones of local and large scale police computers around the world. It's amazingly reliable and we've designed it to be affordable to Interpol, keeping its international budget in mind!"

She couldn't help but gawk; the coatimundi was short, pudgy and wore glasses. A stereotypical nerd-boy. Sad. Interpol moved her office to the one at the end of the main precinct as of recently and yet she still had the ever popular red door marking the entrance to her office. She opened the door and stepped inside. She kept it just the way she kept her old office, it was a familiar lay out and she liked the feel of the spread; it had a sort of Feng Shui.

She crossed the small room, passed the green sofa on her left, picking up a pass to the gym on her desk, next to the schedule for her piloting practice lessons for biplanes and small leer-jet sized craft. Even the pros had to brush up on their skills, after all. Her eyes lifted to the map above the desk and she couldn't help but blink twice. There was a pin over Bombay India. She'd never put it there, and yet there it was.

There was a small sharpie-drawn arrow on the head of the thumbtack pointing to the right. Approaching the safe to the right of her desk, she quickly thumbed through the combination then opened the door. Once upon a time there was a blue and white card where she'd had a case file but that seemed like forever ago. Carmelita blinked away the memory and set her eyes upon the pedestal within the safe's confines.

"You truly are unreal, Raccoon," She muttered softly reaching her paw in and wrapping it around the Fire Stone he'd taken early in their career relationship together. She tried not to melt at the gesture since it was still admittance to his crime. Her heart beat faster and at the same time she was approached from behind. The person was about to get a barking they'd never forget for interrupting her.

The Constable, who had called her on the phone earlier, tapped her on the shoulder then whispered in her ear, so as not to interrupt the techno-expo dweebs who were still giving a speech, out in the other room. "We've got to talk."

She whirled around to face the bandicoot and folded her arms across her chest. "I came in on my day off to get side-work finished; so by _all_ means, what's on _your_ mind?" Her words were scolding with sarcasm; she hated to be bothered when attempting to acclimate herself to a change of plans. As it were, it would be impossible to do paper work with a speech going on, just outside her office. This already meant reversing the order of errands today; he was just slowing her up.

"There's a problem. You might want to go home while the chief cools off," Said the man, shaking his head slowly. "Please trust me on this. I just found out that he's been involved in a bureaucratic, political sort of audit. Your name has come up quite a few times involving things that got messed up, broken and needed replacing."

"In what way?" She narrowed her eyes, turning to face him, leaving her belongings on her desk. Carmelita placed her paw upon his shoulder, guiding him from the room, heading towards the nearest hallway, "Go on; let's have it."

"You might be getting suspended," Said the bandicoot with a frown. He lowered his lengthy pointed nose, then stole a glance back up at her. "Starting with destroying police cruisers and other police property… it cost a fortune to replace the fire escape. Trashed a helicopter after firing off missiles with no full authority to engage in such a way? Stomped all over a city; we're not exactly sure about the report that you were 50 feet tall, there's no documented evidence to support _that_ kind of claim in a police report. Air support nearly destroyed. The people the chief answers to feel that you've not had much to show for it. He's 18 years old, Miss Fox. How could an orphan boy elude you?"

"Excuse me?" Carmelita snapped, baring her teeth. "He's not 18 anymore, for _one_, you idiot. For two, I'm not going to talk about the mask; I'm not going to talk about the vehicles I've piloted and narrowly walked away from. I'm not going to have you talking to _me_ about it right now, either. If the chief has something to say, I'll talk to him personally about it. Beyond Cooper, I've bagged and tagged more scum than you have teeth in your muzzle." She patted his cheek with her paw and walked passed him, directly for the chief's office. She smirked then added, "Suspension? _Not_ likely!"

* * *

Thirty minutes later.

**Carmelita couldn't believe** it. She couldn't place a furry digit upon where any of this made sense. She'd filled out all the proper paperwork every single time something ever happened. There was an inventory record going back over two years of little things that had her on _someone_'s list. The new Secretariat General over Interpol could have had something to do with it, but at this point, she couldn't even begin to think of how this happened.

There was a price tag on every hole in every shoddy shack that happened to be in front of her shock pistol, from whenever she missed a fast moving target. Not to mention Equipment that was ruined, vehicles that were shot up, ordinance that was exhausted. It was all documented. The bill added up to a figure that possibly ranged as numerous as there were strands of fur on her body. She didn't want to even _begin_ to contemplate who was going to pay for it all. There was no possible way she was personally responsible for a price tag that extended into the low hundred-million dollar range. It was _impossible_ and yet she held the itemized bill in her paw.

Carmelita was insulted. The chief suggested that she take this opportunity to get the vacation her mind and body needed. Bahamas; always nice this time of year, but a tropical island wasn't a place a woman went alone, unless it was for work. Her therapist _did_ suggest finding a single guy to take her mind off of the man she didn't belong with, but the only single men that prowled the tropical beaches… closely resembled sharks.

"Suspension?" She simply gawked at the slip in her paw, sitting on the stairs leading up to the office building. It was still mid-morning and there was too much on her mind to even try and think. She drew the cell phone out of her pocket, flipping the top open. That's when she saw the "ONE MISSED CALL" that she had received on the way out the door of her apartment this morning. Curiosity had her attention now. Was it the Constable calling to say, "On second thought, don't come in," Or was it possibly something more interesting?

Her mind began to race. The phone number on the LCD screen was of a foreign area code. Was the itemized bill really a fallacious faux pas? Or was she truly _that_ inept of doing her job well? Her eyes reflected the characters on the digital screen, partially obscured by azure locks of hair. Those Ming-hued tendrils that hid her eyes were particularly important now. She couldn't let anyone see the confusion and hurt held in her gaze.

The cell phone in her paw… Just what number _did_ it hold? To whom would she be connected if she called it back? She thought about running the number before returning the call but that would require going back inside and right now, she wanted to be anywhere but in the office. This devastating blow to her psyche and ego left her without the one golden rock whose anchor-like powers provided incredible stability. _They took her badge_.

"To heck with the drama," She muttered, redialing the number, "Let's just see who's calling," the vixen continued, mashing in the 'send' button. Dialing… She'd know soon. A voice replied on the other end, offering a subtle salutation.

The vixen didn't recognize the voice. She cleared her throat quickly and spoke. "Yes, this is Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox. I seemed to have missed a call from this number earlier and was returning the call to whoever wished to contact me," The cop explained. The gentleman on the other end explained that the phone number was from a large bank in Prague.

Something wasn't adding up. A bank in Prague wouldn't call an Interpol agent. The case would be handed down through Interpol dispatch and with a suspension on her paws there was no way someone from the office gave out _her_ cellular number. She couldn't help but continue for a moment with whomever she had the conversation. "I'm sorry. Did you say this was the Bank of the People's Republic of Czechoslovakia? How did you get this number?"

This wasn't adding up. There was no way in hell some random bank from downtown Prague, or anyone in the Czech Republic would have her personal phone number. She didn't even post it on her business cards. She had a special forwarded number that linked to the cell phone, using an alternative ring tone. Again, things weren't adding up.

"Yes and a gray-furred man using a hook on the end of a pole, broke into the vault this morning," explained the gentleman on the other end of the line.

"I see," replied the face-faulted fox. "I'll see about taking the next plane out from Paris. And your name sir?" Before the man's confirming reply could be offered, there were two gunshots heard and the call abruptly ended. "Nice rebuttal," Carmelita mused, quickly dialing the Constable from earlier. She knew the poor Bandicoot had a crush on her and it was time to milk it.

"Yes, this is Carmelita!" She announced with an airy, almost boisterous voice. The happiest, smiling female always got their way. "I just wanted to personally express my appreciation and apologize for my indignation, earlier." It was so _very_ unlike her. But being out of character at times had its selling points, for sure.

She listened to his reply then continued, "I was just wondering, is there any way you could actually use the system to determine where the Secretariat General of Interpol is, _right_ now?"

She waited, hearing the clicking of keys on the other end. "Ah, I think I found it," Exclaimed the man, "He's in Prague at a special banquet meeting held in the conference room of some really large bank, there. They sometimes use it as a ballroom, I was there once, a few years ago, and it's really nice."

"Is that right? Have you heard anything else about the nerd Expo?" She asked. If she could ascertain the location of Bentley, she could verify if Sly was really involved. He _had_ to be in town, how else did the Fire Stone of India wind up in her safe? Something told her not to go directly to Prague without information first. She wasn't sure if it was because things didn't add up or if it was her woman's intuition.

"As a matter of fact," Replied the constable, "We've had a sighting report of the leader of the Cooper Thief Guild from someone at the Expo. We've not been able to substantiate the authenticity of that claim but the source is a reliable one, so…" He was cut off rudely when Carmelita snapped her cell phone shut.

"Time to get to the bottom of this and get my badge back," said Inspector Fox to herself with a grin. She hailed a taxi cab and headed for the Paris Convention Center in the downtown area. She couldn't arrest Sly even if she wanted to, not without her badge. Giving the arrest to another officer would just look bad on paper, so for once, she had to gear up and keep her hostilities off of the playing field.

And if, for some reason, someone really _did_ set her up, forcing Sly to help her might have just been the ticket to answers. After all, there was no way he could know she'd been suspended, so she still had alternatives for persuasion.

* * *

**Sly Cooper. He wasn't just a** thieving raccoon. He had wit and the perceptive abilities to do what it took to get jobs done. But _this_ wasn't his sort of thing. He had no problems using a computer, but once it came to something more than playing video games and checking email, he really lost interest to learn. Surrounded by dweebs was, in a way, starting to grate on his nerves. 

It wasn't that they were all annoying. Some of them had the clever wit to program cool computer games but all the brain power in the convention center caused him to feel out of place. Murray had no intention of hanging out for something like this; these kinds of people sometimes picked on him, growing up, and made him feel somewhat inferior. Even Bentley could understand that.

The thing was, even though Sly was growing beyond bored, he couldn't help but be amused by two geeks in particular that had invention tables set up only 8 feet from one another. Bentley and Penelope. His best bet for something to do was to scope out the rooftop and see the east side of Paris.

Glancing over his shoulder, he watched the two nerds offer little flirty nods and head gestures to one another. He couldn't help but shake his head, bearing for the door. "Nothing could get worse than this," muttered the Procyon lotor, slipping through the door. His eyes shut and head lifted, nose to the wind. And that's when he could smell _her_. "I suppose I spoke to soon," Said Sly, his eyes still shut, just taking in the fresh air.

"Spoke to soon about what, ring tail?" She was directly behind him, between the Convention center doors and his tail. Sly pivoted on his left ankle, turning to see her. His eyes stole a glance, raking over her form, pausing on her amber gaze.

"Do I really look like a Lemur to you? I was just saying, I spoke too soon about how this place was boring," Cooper mused in a calm yet playful way. "Inspector Fox, not sporting your favorite necklace today? It's no matter," He told her, "Without you, it's just a piece of metal, just like without you a ruby is just a glassy stone." His mention of the ruby was a subtle hint to the Fire Stone of India.

"Oh, so kind of you," She muttered, but the normal bitterness in her voice had faded. She was a little offended by the fact he noticed her badge wasn't around her neck but his flattering remarks over it was at least welcome. She was fairly blunt, however, and got right to the point. "What about Prague?"

"Pretty architecture, neat Goth scene but I'm not into it, why?" Sly tilted his head, wondering where she was going with this one. Usually, she was right on his tracks but this time, she was making assumptions and that was kind of gauche. Not a first but definitely awkward. "Did you get my gift?"

"So you _are_ admitting you had it?" She asked, trying not to let a grin tug at her muzzle. No, she would NOT allow him to see her smile or even smirk. She kept her eyes blazing cold and a stoic look was plastered upon her snout.

"My business card, Carmelita," Sly said offering the grin that she never did.

The vixen smirked now, nodding her head slowly, "I got it. It's going to," she trailed off, touching the stone … the _gift_… that was still in her pocket. "Go back to Bombay where it belongs, now let's talk about Prague. When's the last time you were there?"

"I guess when I was still 18, when I was hunting the Clockwerk parts, why?" asked Sly, beginning to walk down the stairs, playfully keeping his backside to her, which was rarely done.

"That's strange," She replied, folding her arms across her bosom. "I've got a witness who can place you at the scene of a bank heist last night."

Sly stopped on the bottom step, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small piece of paper. Carmelita blinked uncomprehendingly and approached, snatching it from his paw. She read it over for a minute, narrowed her eyes and crumbled it in her paw.

Inspector Fox sneered, "You intentionally got this receipt for food last night, with the intention of using it as an alibi for your heist last night?"

"Not at all," Sly chuckled with a dazzling, masculine smile. "Last night, we got lodging, I took a shower, then got dressed. After that, Bentley and I started setting up his gear and brought the van to the loading dock around back. We loaded things in and because it has been in anticipation of such a big day, I've been helping him since late," He explained.

"And you're wearing the same clothes as last night?" She said, pulling her paw away from him with a moue of disgust upon her maw.

"I've not gone back to bed yet, it's been a long day," Cooper admitted with a shrug. His species was known as nocturnal, but he easily had the endurance to make it through the day with little sleep. At least he'd sleep well tonight, that was for sure.

Carmelita normally wouldn't have bought the story but with the strange occurrence of being suspended and the head of Interpol actually on location of the supposed bank heist, which wasn't even in the papers, she half-way believed him. "I'll be sure to check with the convention registration papers, to make sure you were here when you said you were here," she warned with a wan smile.

"You do that," he said, turning to pat her cheek playfully. She had to control herself not to melt into the padded touch of his paw. Raccoons always had such lithe, petite hands; they were so cute in a way. She wanted to tell him, then have him sneak into the bank of Prague and see what the Secretariat General was up to, but that was unlawful and there was no way she would let herself get in on such a plot.

"Why did you leave that stone in my safe?" she finally just blurted out.

"I found it and was turning it in. I'm not interested in reward money," Sly explained, rubbing his thumb against her cheek before turning back to the sidewalk for a brisk walk towards a nearby café. She followed. It was better than he could have planned for.

"Oh, is that right," the vulpine said with an airy shrug. "You found it in someone else's safe in Bombay right?"

"No, I stole it off a thief and you started chasing me," Sly said flatly, his ears laid and his paws were stretched outwards in a loose shrug. "I don't mean to be short with you, Inspector Fox," he told her, adding, "But shouldn't you be in Prague looking at whatever you're accusing me for, or in Bombay returning the stone? After all, Interpol pays for all your trips right?" He simply winced. He'd never been curt with her before.

She brushed off the terse and yet pleasant worded reply and came to walk besides him. "I'm on vacation," She finally said, patting his cheek in return. It was the strangest thing he'd ever witnessed. Carmelita Fox patting his cheek. It just wasn't done. It wasn't like her.

"Are you sure you're the real Carmelita?" Sly chuckled. Being silly with such a question, sure; but the thing is, she _was_ acting different. For one, she wasn't wearing her badge around her neck and that was always done. Also, she wasn't with her weapon or trying to arrest him. Now she was patting his cheek? "I thought I was the one who teased."

"You think you're the only one capable of teasing?" She groused, giving him a shove. Again, something that was unlike her character. She just didn't _know_ how to react. She was inches away from the man that she obsessed to capture. She used to keep different wanted posters of him in her office for a long time. She finally had him within paws' reach and now she couldn't legally do _any_thing. It was driving her up the wall. Love and hatred that boiled over and made her chest ache and her mind flutter. '_Control, Carmelita,'_ she thought to herself.

She wanted so badly to just grab his wrist, shove him up against the wall and cuff him. The hurt of being betrayed by the one job she loved was also welling up in her chest, bottled up tightly in a small container with contents that were under far too much pressure. She felt like she was about to burst. There was no way she could admit that she was suspended.

"Did you like being manipulated by your job?" Sly randomly asked. He was speaking of The Contessa, but she took it as him meaning the suspension.

"How did you know?" She demanded as the two walked down the sidewalk together, approaching the café up ahead. She wanted so badly to force him down and bag and tag the fuzzball. She'd have given anything for it. And yet it wasn't in her lawful rights, any longer. Citizens' arrests couldn't be made on men whose names had been locally cleared. What _else_ did that family fortune buy him, she wondered?

Political pay offs and a healthy donation from an anonymous contributor of things that had him in trouble in the area made it easy to call his name cleared for the moment. She was pissed, but what could she do? He was a man with unusual skills as far as the law was concerned at the moment. She knew she'd get him on something else in the near future, she just had to be ready.

"The whole department knew about the idiot," replied Sly. She didn't know that he was referring to Contessa, she actually thought he meant the new head of Interpol. Her paws closed into tight fists and she stared hard at the ground with no rebuttal to offer. "What?" he asked, noticing her demeanor.

"Nothing." Impasse; they were stricken with miscommunication. He patted her shoulder the way a guy pats his friend's shoulder at the batting cage after the friend just struck out. "Chin up, Inspector Fox," Sly told her with a smile. "Today, we're just a guy and a girl standing in front of the finest backstreet Café in Paris, France."

He was right. She couldn't admit it right now, but he was completely correct on all counts. They were just a guy and girl today. Even if she wanted to, she didn't have her badge or the lawful right to do more than call the police and that would mean handing over her prize capture to someone else. After working his case for a very long time, she could _not_ allow that to happen. It had to be her, as soon as she got her badge back.

But until that day, she technically wasn't Inspector Fox. "Just… Carmelita," She replied softly. Suddenly the earring on her ear flickered; her ears perking up. Sly's did, as well. There was something going on inside the café, of all places. She dashed in first, on instincts. Sly slipped in behind her. Once they were inside the establishment, their muzzles dropped wide open.

A group of men stood inside, having ransacked the place. Sly and Carmelita exchanged glances of shock and confusion. Their surprised expressions panned back to the group of men standing in the room. She didn't know what else to say and the words seemed to roll off her tongue without a second thought. "You dirty rats are under arrest!"

* * *

Author's Note, up in here, up in here!

* * *

A/N: _Uh oh… we're all about to see some good ole' fashion ACTION SCENES in chapter3! Neat! Who are these rats that are ransacking the café? And why? Do they tie into the suspension and Prague or is it a random change for Sly and Carmelita to work together? _

_I'm sorry this chapter was long and boring; it'll be the only one… I had to set up all the good intrigue and storyline foreshadowing… I figured now would be the best time. I've noticed after playing Sly 1 and 2 for a little, tonight (for the first time), that in all the games, they do a sort of lead in story that introduces the characters, through Sly. I know I've not done that well, here… but to be quite honest, I don't know them, myself. _

_I'm not able to play through one, there are scratches on the disc (I got it used :( ) and it doesn't go passed the first cut scene. It just gets to where he says "Murray" then locks up, half way through the word, so he says "Murr" over and over. LoL. In lieu of the long boring chapter tonight, that grinds storyline in your faces, I'll make it up to readers who've stuck with this story so far… by delivering some kickass combat action starting in Chapter3. _

_So you've all read chapter one, and some of you were worried I killed off Sly and that would become Carmelita's Lament… nope! It's losing her badge! There's a very good tie-in reason this is all happening. When playing through the beginning of Sly 1, when she was blowing up police cars with her gun, while you ran off with the documents, it became apparent to me that I was on the right track by saying she's run up quite a bill. The rest of my info came from glancing at IGN Walk-thru's to see what happens to the characters next. I'm going to finish 1 & 2 (I've gotta return 1 and find another copy… blargh.) then I'll be on the right track. I'm slow to introduce other characters because I'm starting with the ones I'm becoming familiar with first. I'm writing this because I've had several people say "you should do a Sly Cooper Story" LOL. I hope I'm nailing it! I've been doing research to grow more intimate with the characters as I get further into it. Thanks for reading… if you're actually reading this Authors Note, then I just want you to know one thing… I LOVE YOU!_

_Btw, about those Tarot Cards… We'll learn about them when Carmelita reflects on something that happened right before the dream sequence, during the next chapter :)_

_And I thought it might amuse you guys to know that "SLY" is a nickname for "Sylvester" so I got 'playful' with the thought of drawing out his name for the sake of a woman with a casefile who's obsessed with knowing every detail. It might not be right, but who says it is or isn't, directly? Woo! Chapter 3 soon. Got a few other chapters to put up on various stories... but it won't be long... I hope you guys like it as much as i like writing it... And I'm a man, you can give me flamers and critical reviews.. I can handle it but if you bust out the whole "YOUR GRAMMAR SUCKS" be prepaired for me to hunt you down... and have you tell me what IS right, what I did WRONG and how I can fix it. ;)_

-Kit

PS: those who have submitted replies, minus myself, THANK YOU!


	3. Her inability to trust

**A/N:** _Again, I wrote a long chapter. This one is about 17 pages. But I keep the pace a bit more action oriented this time around. So you guys liked my mini cliffhanger? Lol . I'm just warming up; I'm usually somewhat notorious for cliffhangers. I've been playing through **sly2** since the first game doesn't work for me...I plan to exchange it when I can :) _

_I posted this, and somehow, a ton of punctuation was eaten. Also, i saw some things I disliked in the way I worded, during the fight, so about an hour after posting, i reposted it. I had the & sign wherever I'd had an elepsis ( ... ) so... I had to fix it... sheesh. anyway.. SORRY:) If you find any mistakes, missing apostrophies, the "&" sign, that sorta stupid stuff, just... lemmie know :(_

_I promised for some questions to be answered in this chapter but I assure you I'll be leaving you with another cliff hanger. Oh and Carmelita IS acting strangely isn't she? But then again, if her badge is her rock of stability, being how emotional she is...and it was suddenly taken away...don't you think her lack of anchor would leave her floating in the wind? But each crossing with Sly has always been just a tease in the games...let's see how far we can take this teasing, hmm? _

_And let's just see what happens with these strange dreams she's been having... It's time for her to find some answers. Let us just see how crafty a fox can be! _

_Btw, incase you didnt know 'Vulpine' is a word for Fox just as 'Procyon lotor' means raccoon! Lupine is wolf, equine is horse, canine is dog, feline is cat, yadda yadda yadda. _

_Now, let's get lost further into the dementia of the Lamenting of Carmelita! _

* * *

Chapter 3: _Her inability to trust_

**They were unarmed. Carmelita dashed to the left and Sly went for the right. They were on the same wave length** and went to flank the group. Carmelita moved smoothly along the café floor, snatching a catsup bottle off the table and turning around to quickly deliver the glass bottle across the muzzle of one of her opponents.

The red paste splattered and the glass shattered upon contact with the mans snout, immediately knocking him off balance. Sly, on the other hand, was climbing up over the café bar counter. His feet moved gracefully over the cheap Formica counter top, snatching a rail that went along the top of the archways between pillars that lined the bar from one end to the other.

The metal rail was tightly mounted but when he grasped it, he placed both of his feet up on the ceiling and pushed until it came loose. Sly's body twisted about, so that he landed upon his feet, then immediately swung it like a bat, across another rats head. The power of his strike caused it to bend at the end, so it began to resemble his normal hooked weapon.

He immediately hooked the tip under the rats mandible and put his weight into pivoting, so that he could throw the adversary head over heals into the guy Carmelita was fighting. Both of them went crashing to the floor, dazed and without their equilibrium. Carmelita quickly delivered a roundhouse across the glass jowl of the next rodent, spinning him to the left. He staggered towards Sly who quickly slipped the hooked end of the pole around the fiends throat and slammed him to the ground.

One of the criminals brandished a weapon, lifting the hand-cannon directly at the back of the vixens head but Sly wrapped the metal hook around her waist, pulling her back. Using the momentum of weight transfer, Sly bounded forward, into a somersault.

Time stood still and in that moment, the rat only had enough time to look up. His pupils shrunk but he never had the time to lift his pistol. Sly's leg extended fully, locking his knee. The moment exploded forward into the present with Sly delivering his heel into the gunmans forehead. The metallic object skittered across the café floor, noisily.

One of the other rats dashed after it, brushing his feet against it, so that it continued to slide across the floor. Amused by the rat's inadvertent kicking of the weapon, Sly used the hook to take the foe's feet out from under him, only to suddenly receive a bottle of wine smashed across the back of his head. Cooper crumbled to his paws, dropping the hook pole. One of the rats grinned, holding the remnants of a fine French lunch wine. The raccoon struggled for a moment, after having been nailed hard by the bottle.

He shook his head hard, shaking off the dazed effects. Carmelita grabbed the attacker from behind, struggling to contain him. Sly recovered, snatching his hooked pole from the ground. It wasn't as good as his actual family hook staff, but since he knew how to wield a pole that was bent at the end, he was able to make it work fairly well.

Snatching the man from Carmelita's grasp with the hook, Sly flipped the guy around, then delivered a hard left punch, knocking the rat back to Inspector Fox. The punch was so hard that the attacker spiraled about, spinning like a top, towards the vixen. She clocked him right in the snout with a quick jab, causing the man to double over from the pain. Using her police defensive training moves, her knee lifted, meeting the mans face once more, followed by bringing her elbow down upon the nape of his neck and ending the maneuver with an uppercut that simultaneously broke one of her nails and sent him flying onto his back.

"Son of a..." She trailed off, looking at the broken claw, shaking her head disdainfully. Carmelita clinched her fists, taking it out on the very next rat in the room, screaming, "Do you KNOW how LONG it TAKES to GROW THEM THIS LONG!" A left, followed by her right fist met the man's jaw, ending with a devastating roundhouse. She pivoted on her left foot, bringing her right heel across the side of the rascal's temple, knocking him to the floor.

Cooper dashed forward then jammed his pole into the floor. Vaulting over the body of the freshly fallen varmint, Sly delivered a kick across the jaw of the last remaining attacker. The carabineer staggered back towards Carmelita who quickly took him in her arm by his neck then gave him a shove towards Sly who was ready to receive the disheveled rat. He hooked the pole under the rats ankle, pulling his feet out in front him. It caused the rodent to tumble backwards, his feet pulled forward from beneath his body.

Inspector Fox lifted her right knee so that when the rodent fell back, his head connected with her patella, which caused the man to become dizzy. Sly hooked the bent end of the pole into the rodent's shirt, using all his weight to flip the man over his head, from one side of his body to the other, slamming the antagonist into the floor hard.

The dust settled around them and both simply blinked. Eight men, one of which was covered it catsup, lay unconscious at their feet. Slowly but surly the café owner came up from his hiding position behind the counter. He blinked a few times, looking from Sly to Carmelita then offered a confused sort of smile.

"Do you know their motive?" Carmelita asked, always the police officer before anything else.

"They were looking for someone; they claimed he comes here whenever he's in town," Said the owner. Carmelita and Sly exchanged glances with one another. Cooper simply offered her a shrug. The owner continued, "Some guy who fits the description of," he paused then pointed at Sly with a slight shrug. "Someone who kinda looks like you. Gray, slender, raccoon mask, blue cap."

"…Great," Sly chuckled, shaking his head. "Now I've got more fans than just you," He added, speaking to Carmelita. He gave a coy smile but she was only too quick to respond with a huffing sigh, folding her arms and not replying to him.

"Isn't she wonderful?" He asked to the owner.

"Yes quite," replied the beagle, "If it wasn't for you and your girlfriend here, they would have torn the place apart. They thought I was hiding you, if that is indeed who they were looking for," The canine muttered. Carmelita sneered at the term "girlfriend" but kept her manners, looking back to Sly with a smirk, just to see how he'd react.

Sly dragged his hook across a few of the bodies, drawing out wallets with an unnatural grace. He flipped the small leather objects up into his paw with ease, flipping out cash from anyone who had some, then deposited the wallets to the ground, crossing the café floor. He passed several overturned tables, stopping at the counter and handing over a wad of fresh cash.

"That should also cover the metal pole across the top of the bar I broke, sorry about that," Sly said plainly. His offer of apology was more than enough. Sly's eyes lowered to the potted plants and such strewn across the bar which were once hanging from the rail that he had yanked down, earlier. He felt guilty, what could he say?

"It's no problem, it's paid for," The dog said, taking the money into his paws, "Insurance covers everything I need," he told them, putting the money into his pocket. "It's only too kind of you to offer all this money," said the dog, not having seen the thief hook wallets out of pockets so quickly. Sly had stolen with such ease that even Carmelita didn't notice it, standing next to him.

Cooper gracefully swept his foot, pushing the discarded wallets back under one of the fallen attackers, stepping over the body and smiling to Carmelita. "Shall we... interrogate?"

She nodded, half wanting to shrug him off, but the idea had merit. "I totally concur." She then turned to the man at the counter and asked, "Can we use your money-counting office for just a moment?" After the beagle nodded, she snatched one of the ruffians by their collar and dragged him to the end of the counter where it was open, then went towards the opening, through the kitchen and into the back office, Sly followed. "You know," She told Sly once they were in the back, alone, with the unconscious thug, "Don't start letting people think I'm your girlfriend. I'm serious."

"I'm surprised you didn't correct him," Sly returned. She lifted her chin, looking away from him with a snotty smirk. Sly just grinned, looking to throw her off balance by saying something other than a compliment for once, just to see how she'd react. "Get a life, Carmelita."

"Get a job, Sly," She replied, forcing the dead weight criminal towards the back of the small room, shoving him down into the office chair. She turned to Sly and held out her paw. "Gun?"

"What?" Sly just blinked. She narrowed her gaze; he couldnt help but shake his head. "You think I stole the gun off the floor? I dont use those things the way you do. Only if I have nothing else. I'll go get it, sit tight." And with that, he left the room. Back through the kitchen, out into the café, and passed the fallen criminals. It had been knocked across the floor, beneath a set of tables against the far wall.

He recovered it, stuck it into his pocket and walked back into the kitchen, shrugging at the beagle before disappearing through the doorway that went into the back area. Handing forth the weapon, Carmelita checked the chamber, cocked it, then pistol whipped the criminal to wake him up. She put the barrel against the thugs right eye and smiled.

"Very subtle, Inspector," Sly mused, cupping the bottom of his jaw into his right paw, as if he were admiring a painting. She offered him a nasty look then turned away, back towards their captured prey.

Carmelita leaned forward, keeping a very monotone voice. "Good morning, fuzz ball. Mind telling me why you're hunting for Mister Cooper here? I've seen hit men in the past and none of them were as poorly organized as you guys. Eight against two? And we wiped the floor with you boys, I'm _almost_ disappointed."

The thug groaned but didn't offer any information just yet. Sly tilted his head and added, "Were you guys seriously here for me or just any raccoon?"

"You Sly Cooper? We're supposed to bring you back to the boss, so he can lure in some dumb lady cop _girlfriend_ of his and kill her off; we gotta do it so we won't be havin' no troubles." To the thugs words Sly could only shake his head and chuckle. He finally turned back to Carmelita, patted her shoulder and turned for the door.

"I don't have time for this. Bentley is still at the convention and I'm still hungry. Good luck with your friend. It sounds like this involves you more than it involves me. Thanks for coming by to visit me, though. Always a surprise. Good luck with explaining THIS mess to your chief. I bet he'll hit the roof huh?"

Carmelita put weight behind the pistol, keeping the magnum in the thugs eye, hard. She then turned to Sly and snatched his wrist in her free paw. "Sly," She paused. She wanted his help for this one. With no Interpol to back her, getting in over her head was an understatement. But she didn't have the nerve to actually ask for the help.

"Yes?" He asked. To his inquiry, Carmelita just shook her head. But what she didnt know was the fact that he and Bentley had been in town to use the Convention as an alibi for a new heist. The last thing he wanted to do was be late for the heist. The job took too much planning to suddenly get distracted and it seemed like she had full control of the situation now. "You know where to find me, when you're ready to admit whatever it is you can't admit." He pulled his paw out of her own then reached forth and patted her cheek. She narrowed her eyes in rebuttal; Sly headed for the front door of the restaurant.

"She's a wonderful woman, sometimes; don't get me wrong," Sly said to the owner, in passing. He went for the door, opened it, then glanced back over his shoulder at the beagle with a shrug. "But _her inability to trust_ will never cease to amaze me." With that, he disappeared through the door, shutting it behind himself.

Back in the Office, the vixen gritted her teeth. "I'm not his girlfriend," Carmelita snapped, shouting into the thug's face, striking the side of his jaw with the pistol before putting it back against his right eye. "Now, I want to know everything you know. And if you don't give me a bunch of crap, I might even go easy on you and let you go." The truth was, she couldn't arrest him anyhow. And if this did lead back to the new head of Interpol, she couldn't call the police and have these guys locked up. They'd tell someone that she had interrogated them and they would be that many more steps ahead of her.

If she let him go, he might report back to others that tied back to the same people... her superiors. She might let him go, but who was to say that handcuffing him to a pipe in a sewer and leaving him there to get himself out was such a bad idea? At least it would buy her time without killing him.

It irked her to no end, knowing she couldn't lock up these scumbags. But there was more to all of this than meets the eye. If only she knew just how complicated all of this was, she might have gone back home like the bandicoot asked of her. Now she lost Sly, her badge and was about to lose her self composure and take out her anger on this thug unless he cooperated completely.

* * *

**Sly shook his head**, walking through the back alley. The sun was still up and sneaking around during the day looked awful silly. Still, the roof tops were far quicker compared to walking down the block. After thinking better on it, he kept his feet on the ground and simply walked back towards the Convention center. The truth was in lack of hunger; his apatite was gone for the moment. He was, however, tired. 

"Just… Carmelita," He repeated her words back to himself then grinned. His paw lifted, flipping his favorite blue cap from off of his head with a sort of inner grin. A steel-colored tuft of headfur was just above his eyes, bouncing slightly with every step. Sly gave the hat a twirl then tossed it up in the air, craning his neck so that it landed perfectly, seated upon his brow. It wasn't necessarily cold out just yet but it certainly was brisk enough to wear a blue sweater and black baggy pants. Not the usual thief attire, really.

It was still two hours left before the sun would finally start to descend into the western skyline. Coming around the backside of the Convention Center, Sly paused in front of the van. The fiery paint job and large roof-lamps above the windshield seemed a bit flashy to take on the role of a get away vehicle. Either way, it demanded too much attention for tonight's job. Leaving it here would be much better, this time around.

Cooper turned to face the van, reaching a paw up to wipe at a spot on the windshield. Really, he was gazing into the reflection of the glass then smirked to himself. No Carmelita. He was actually surprised. He half expected her to be tracking him. Sly continued passed the loading dock and went for a side door to the building.

Returning to where Bentley had his table set up, he glanced around for Penelope but didn't see her. Sly took a seat, sliding down next to his friend with a nod. "Changed my mind about being hungry after all, so where'd the mouse go?"

"Sly, keep it down!" Bentley said in an overly dramatic whisper. Suddenly, the raccoon was overcome by a fit of laughter. All the times that Bentley was a little overzealous on a job and seemed to get excited and a tad loud, and here he was, of all people, trying to shush Sly.

"Oh, right, incognito. You don't want her to know you still like her or something?" Cooper patted his friend on his shelled shoulder then propped his head upon his paw, resting his elbow on the table. "I ran into Carmelita…"

"Oh no!" Bentley looked mortified. "She's here now?"

"Oh man," chuckled the thief with an airy sort of glee. "She's got her paws full; I doubt we'll be seeing any of her until after this next move is long in the past." Sly offered an award winning grin, raising his brows to accent the casual look of happiness. It put Bentley at ease, which was the whole point. "Just do what you do and I'll do what I do best and you don't worry yourself about her."

"What did she say?" Bentley finally decided to ask after a short moment of quiet.

"She was being kinda' weird, really," Cooper admitted with a shrug. "Maybe she's mad that I've got nothing on my name right now."

"Well, no, you're cleared of everything except for that Ruby from Bombay," Bentley reminded but the turtle was quickly cut off by Sly putting a paw up. "What?"

"I don't have it. She does. She found it in her office today. Ironic huh?" Sly offered a wink to his friend, then shook his head slowly. The smile disappeared and Bentley knew there was a downside to his afternoon story. "I was going to make her sit down to lunch with me, but the strangest thing happened. A group of guys ransacked the place, claiming to be looking for me."

"What?" The tortes looked perplexed. "Why would anyone be looking for you, besides her?"

"I don't know," admitted Sly, offering his friend nothing more than a shrug. "We kicked their tails, though. It was kinda neat to fight alongside of her again. I won't deny she's a real knockout," Cooper said, making a pun at the end. "At least, I'm sure that's how those 8 rats feel, right now. I left her there, trying to force information out of them."

"But Sly, who would want to wait for you at a Café? And furthermore," Bentley groaned, "Who in the world knows that you always frequent that café while you're in Paris?"

"I don't know, Bentley," Sly mused, "Someone who either knows me well or has been watching me for a long time."

* * *

**The window-office above the Peoples Republic Bank** was well illuminated. So well in fact, that the luxury chair behind the desk, adjacent to the window, was only seen as a silhouette. The afternoon glow made it difficult to discern any details beyond the heavy mahogany desk at the far end of the office. Two men stepped in, adjusted their ties, then approached the desk. 

Slowly the chair by the window began to rotate and yet they couldn't really make out the being's face who sat within the comfortable confines of the expensive business chair. "Did you bring me Sly Cooper?" Race and even gender were nearly impossible to discern.

"Unfortunately sir," The first rat started.

The second one continued, "It seems as though he's already working with Inspector Carmelita Fox, my liege." They both drew silent.

"She's suspended. She's not a cop; you should have had your men SHOOT HER. I was trying to use Sly Cooper as bait to lure her HERE, so that I can personally shoot her, but by all means, you had the chance," Said the boss from his or her office seating. "This is an intolerable setback, gentleman," The mysterious whispered voice said loud enough for them to hear. "Since you've lost her, continue with the original plan. Bring me Sly Cooper. She's the only person in Interpol that threatens my operation. The sooner she's out of the picture, the sooner we can proceed. Get this done immediately. The longer you procrastinate, the more I get upset."

The two rodents backed out of the office, slipping through the office door and shutting it behind themselves. The shady being grinned, reaching for his telephone. The phone was lifted from its cradle and a number was dialed.

After a moment of pause, the voice came again, this time with definition, speaking into the receiver. A masculine voice noted, "Yes, this is the Secretariat General of Interpol, after reviewing the file of Miss C. M. Fox, I've decided that she needs to be held accountable, completely. Find her and put her on a plane to Prague." A moment passed, then the Interpol head placed the receiver back into the cradle, only to lift it again and dial a different number.

This time, the Secretariat's voice was feminine, "I've decided to handle this personally, Sire. I'll bury the Inspector and anyone else who may be a threat to our operation. No, my Sire. The new Hate Chip has already been completed. We're ahead of schedule. Now all that remains is tying up the loose ends in Paris. Inspector Fox and anyone close to her will be out of our fur by the end of the night."

After finishing the short conversation, the phone was replaced upon its cradle and the voice returned from feminine to masculine; a finger was mashed down upon the callbox on the edge of the desk. In a low, calm voice, "The rats have failed. Bring in _The Wolf_. Wrap this up by dawn tomorrow morning." The mysterious being released the PA button, sat back in the chair and smiled.

Enshrouded by darkness, the only visible aspect of the Secretariat General of Interpol was a dazzling row of teeth. 'The Wolf' never failed. He was too much of a freakish enigma to lose. He was the ultimate predator of the night.

* * *

**Carmelita shook her head slowly**. Night had fallen and now she had just enough information to move to the next part of her case, to get her badge back. She had to sleep well so she could be at the top of her game. They worked well together today. Surprisingly, they complimented one another's moves. 

It was like those stupid Tarot cards said, when she was Romania, going undercover as a gypsy to capture a killer, last month. She asked one of the gypsy girls that allowed her to live for a week in the Kumpania caravan. A _vurdon_, or 'wagon', became her home for 7 full days.

The Tarot reading was especially odd, speaking of her life of success and achievements, then mentioning Sly by referring to him with the spouse card, followed by challenge and loss. Then there was something about an iniquitous _ruv_, the Romanian word for wolf, followed by another loss and challenge card. She got something about a number of pentacles card, inverted, and a measure of uncertainty. Everything said so far fell into place and made perfect sense, except for the weird one about the wolf loss and challenge bit.

When it was time for the last card, the Gypsy paused and told her, "This is the last card, my child. It will be the answer to how your life with this Klepto-_phral_ (brother thief) will end. Will it be love or hatred? Will it be happiness or sadness? Will it be death and challenge or will you move on and forget about him one day?" She gave a cryptic smile then placed her thumb upon the top of the deck. "Let us find out shall we?"

Carmelita was literally on the edge of her little wooden stool, a step away from heart attack if the lady didn't hurry. Suddenly there was an explosion and Carmelita was called to action to stop the Romanian kingpin killer. He was a murderous drug smuggler that she wound up capturing. But she never found out what her last card was. The reading was never finished. Her future was unknown. The handsome Ringtail was unknown.

Sly Cooper. The way they fought side by side today almost felt natural. She recalled back on it as she moved to her bed, slipping beneath the covers. She was already struggling for sleep not to take her, her body winding down quickly. Her recollections continued to reflect on the day's events but the distortion of her fantasies already begun to cause things to play out differently.

_She turned from the thug in that office, whirling around to see Sly Cooper still stood behind her. He was a dumb thief to not have taken off. She placed her paws up against his chest and slammed him up against the wall. The hitman scampered from the room, quickly trying to get away from her while her attention was distracted._

_She caught a fleeting glance of his departure then gazed back to Sly against the wall, narrowing her eyes even more. Her right paw slipped to her belt and her trusty gear was missing so they slipped into the inside jacket pocket of her coat and freed a pair of handcuffs instead. She flipped one end over his wrist and the other side over her own. Now they were attached._

_"Sorry Sly. The key is back at my office. Now I know you won't get away," She told him. Outside of the dream state, she rolled over and hooked her left paw around a pillow, pulling it close to her chest._

_Sly put his foot up against the wall, pushing forward, so that they crossed the tiny, 5 foot office, so that now her back was to the opposite wall and he offered a grin. "Sorry Carmelita, I guess you won't be able to get away from me."_

_Carmelita, ever resourceful, reached her leg between his, then glided her ankle behind his own, pushing forward on his shoulders. With her foot behind his heel, he fell backwards to the floor. The chain of the handcuffs brought them toppling over together and she placed one knee against his chest, far enough up so that her knee brushed the bottom of his chin. "You were saying, Mister Ringtail?"_

_"Don't you remember what I said about Lemur's earlier?" Sly grinned up at her. "This is a very compromising position don't you agree?"_

_"Yes I do and yes it is," She replied with a smirk. But Sly wasn't as useless as she initially thought. He reached his free paw up, touching her pressure point which, in a way, tickled as well. It caused her to buck her hips away from his touch, putting her just off balance enough that he was able to flip her over, onto her back. And now _his _weight was upon_ her _body._

_"If you do not get off of me right now," she warned; her eyes narrow and her fur beginning to bristle. Her sentence was continued but not by her._

_"…Then you'll surrender to the superior crime catching abilities of Constable Cooper?" He whispered into her ear. The hot breath that caressed that furry lobe oh so sensually, caused a shutter to ripple through her spine. And the way he said 'surrender', it was … she had no words to describe it, even to herself._

_"Is this a training session?" She chuckled, raising her free paw to clutch at his sweater._

_"No, it's a strip search," He replied with a joking air. The dream melted through the scenes into the next state of mind… desire. The dream had progressed to a point now, where things were beyond playful flirting any longer. Fingertips sifted through the sapphire locks of her hair and she gazed up at him with a feral hunger. His heated touch was powerful. He owned her now and the sensual bliss of fur to fur had the two partners shackled together with more than the throes of love._

_Clothing had been deposited all about the room, except for Sly's sweater which hung from his arm, unable to remove it due to the handcuff on his wrist. The sweater hung from his wrist, lying haphazardly across the floor, but it was long since forgotten. They moved against, upon one another, and it captured her mind, heart and will._

_They moved together, now, in joys of love and adoration, no matter how their history was up to this point. With an age old rhythm, the two lovers were now joined as one, writhing sensually, erotically. Passions boiled and the sensual lovemaking lasted for what seemed like hours. She was undulating with the surge of his body. Her legs quivered, her heart fluttered, her paws were shaking from ecstasy._

_Her eyes fluttered shut and that's when everything stopped. A weightless sort of vertigo filled her stomach. She pried her eyes open, her jaw gaping at the grim mosaic of sanguine splashes that covered the office wall. Sly was pinned to the wall with a massive metallic feather. Beyond the door, a glowing ruby hue emanated from above and below the door itself, filling the room with just enough dark light to terrify her._

_Her eyes returned to her lover and his lifeless body stared back at her with a cold, foreign, accusing glare. What truly terrified her was when his muzzle dropped and his tongue rolled out. And yet, words tumbled forth of that velveteen tongue tip, "You killed me, not him."_

_"No!" She gasped, turning for the door. She turned the knob and kicked the door wide open. Her heart froze and her body crumbled with fear. The rest of the café was gone. She was at the edge of a cliff, with a sea of sanguine vitae bubbling beneath. Inches from the edge of the door, a waterfall of blood dropped into infinity and she couldn't even see the bottom. Her terrified gaze lifted and there, in all his malevolence, was the massive Clockwerk, two stories in height, missing one feather._

_"NO!" She exclaimed, reaching for her shock pistol. It wasn't there. She had been suspended. "Why did you take him from me!" She exclaimed in anguish. A massive talon-filled claw reached forward and snatched her from the tiny office that floated above the waterfall. Glancing back at it, she realized the cascade of bloodwas from none-other than Sly Cooper. The sheer drop beneath her would have been instantly fatal._

_"I will end the Cooper line! And his death is not the end of his seed! YOU are!" His massive rumbling voice fell upon her ears from the behemoth beak upon his head. A talon sunk into the flesh of her torso, beneath her belly. "The seed of the Cooper Line must not be allowed to bare fruit from the loins of any chosen female. And therefore, you must parish!"_

Carmelita sat up quite suddenly, her eyes wide and her heart pounding. She was paralyzed with fear, clutching the down pillow to her chest, tears streaming over her furry face. Sly was wrong, today. He said it didnt involve him but instead, her. But he was wrong. Somehow, she wasnt sure just how yet, but somehow, this all revolved around him. Again. Somehow, she knew she had to go to Prague, not for herself, but to save Sly Cooper. She wasn't sure how she knew. She just did.

* * *

**Bentley shifted his weight from his spot inside the safe house** in an office above the Convention Center. The second floor above the 3 day technology Expo wasn't quite finished yet, but enough construction had been completed that Bentley needed only to wire his gear in through the bundle of wires that ran along the far wall, down into the floor, leading through the ceiling of the first floor, down into the main part of the convention center. 

There was a small office in the corner of the large second floor area, that already had walls. A window on the far end was slightly ajar, so that Sly could get in and out of the safe house area. Bentley had been watching his progress through the wireless transmitter in his binocucom.

The tortes leaned into his microphone and said, "Sly, you're almost looking at it." Sly, out in the field, brought up his communication goggles, zooming in on the building across the city. Bentley cleared his throat. "Now remember, this processor might be running a government server but this chip is really the replacement for the Hate Chip, to be used in the rebuilding of Clockwerk."

"Right," Sly replied over the transmitter, "You'll have to show me how to dissect this computer. I've not skimmed through many computers. The Processor you made that I have to replace this one with, is not so easy when you don't have as much computer experience."

"Not a problem, buddy," Bentley continued, "I just can't believe Clockwerk has managed to develop his own cult of worshipers."

"Yeah, I know," Sly sighed, "People seem to think anyone that can live for more than a few measly centuries is immortal and worth their time to worship. I just hate how Clockwerk's following seems to be comprised of the most freaky chaps throughout the globe. And I thought the Klaww gang was bad."

Bentley nodded in agreement. "Right! So, let me know when you're inside. We'll go from there," He added, then shook his head, reminding Sly, "It's going to be a little difficult without Murray but without his powerful pummeling of the security servers in the city of Marseille and Lyon, you'd never be able to get into this building in Paris!"

"Yeah, pal, I know." Sly glanced left to right, then put the binocucom back into his rucksack. He placed his foot upon a high tension wire then shifted his weight. The lithe raccoon dashed across the tension cable, jumping forward and throwing his legs over himself in a somersault. With a gracefully executed landing, Sly touched down upon the roof and sprinted across it.

Pulling free his infamous hook, Cooper held it out, capturing a small metallic cylinder, using it to swing around, facing back towards the way he came. His legs lifted into the air in the middle of the quick maneuver, then he used his gathered momentum to kick in the heavy metallic vent that was welded in place on the roof. Graceful as ever, Sly continued the entire tour de force in one swift motion.

Unhooking the infamous cane, Sly slid down into the shaft, riding the diagonal ventilation system on his tail and the rubber roller specifically built into the backpack he was wearing, using body English to control his speed and course. He sifted to the right, taking a fork in the tunnel, to head towards the high security section. He lifted his staff and waited until just the right moment to hook the tip through a maintenance hook used for repair men's safety belts.

His body relaxed and yet his paws tightened, to better absorb the shock of the iminant stop. The anticipated caesura was followed by a sudden grunt. Sly then put his feet outwards to keep himself in an anchored position. He reached his hooked staff outwards, pulling the vent cover off the air duct register, pulling it up to himself at an angle and hooking it on the same metallic stub that he'd used to stop his sliding, a moment prior.

"All right, Sly," Came the call from over his communicator radio. He had a small bluetooth wireless earpiece in his ear, hooked up to his binocular communicator. Sly lifted the goggles just a bit, reaching them down into the opening of the room, so Bentley could see without him compromising his position in the vent duct.

Bentley pondered in silence for a moment, then his voice came back over Sly's radio. "It's going to be tricky. Don't touch the floor. You'll have to find a way over to the computer machine, you can stand on that. We'll get the case off and get the chip out, but you can't let anything touch the floor."

"I'll figure something out," Sly said with a hint or promise before closing the channel. Sly unshouldered his backpack that he'd brought with him and opened the top, pulling out a hookshot and bracket mount. Quickly and stealthfully, Cooper mounted the hookshot to the register then fired it across the room. He re-shouldered the backpack with a grin.

The powerful spring loaded trigger caused the metal rod to lance out and slam into the opposite wall. The raccoon gave a tug on the cord then latched his hook around it and slid down the line. His feet kicked outwards, catching the top of the computer target before quickly bounding atop of it. "I'm on the computer. What's the plan?" He asked into his radio.

"All right, Sly," Bentley chuckled in a giddy way over the communications patch. "Use the backpack. Flip the roller up and you'll see a small quartz eye. Hook the strap of the backpack with your staff and lower it down to the side of the computer case. I'll activate the laser from here, then just move your cane so that you can use the backpack laser to cut a hole into the side of the computer box. I'll guide you in from there."

"Right," Sly said softly, doing as he was told. He used the hook to lower the backpack parallel to the computer's metal case. With the grace of a marionette puppeteer, he moved the hooked so that the backpack's laser eye could cut an inverted trapezoid hole into the side of the case.

"I thought we agreed on a circle," Bentley grumbled.

"Oh let me have my fun will ya?" chuckled the thief with a grin. The piece of metal fell inwards, sliding down inside the computer case with a dull muffled '_thunk_'. Sly lifted the backpack up and pushed the rubber roller back down over the laser eyelet. After that, he shouldered it once more and leaned over the side, laying across his belly. His paws slid into the hole he'd made, which was wider at the top than at the bottom.

"Next?" Sly's voice was only slightly stressed sounding, from laying across his chest with his arms extended downwards. His paws followed the guiding words of Bentley over the radio. Gloved fingers moved with grace across the textured components of the computer, staying away from the ones that Bentley told him not to touch.

The tortes sounded like he was trying to contain his excitement. It was obvious the poor little guy was on the edge of his seat. "When you get to the bottom of that one, you'll feel a gap. You have to reach down into that, cup the square piece with your paw, it's about the size of a fist, then pull while pushing down on the metal clip besides it, with your other paw. Wait until I give the word!" Bentley cried at the end, to remind Sly not to act until told.

After just a moment, Sly could hear his friend pushing buttons form his side of the radio. He placed his paws on the large fan and heatsync that was connected to the chip, his other paw went to the latch and he simply waited. The computer beeped twice then went through a shut down sequence. As soon as it went silent, Bentley's voice returned to the radio.

"Now! Quick!" he exclaimed. Sly followed the instructions, pushing on the latch and pulling on the fist sized processor with his other paw. He pulled it free into his right paw, keeping his left in place, then stashed it into the up-side-down pouch sewn into his backpack. He reached to the pouch below the first one, pulling out the replacement processor and put it into his teeth.

"Right!" Bentley said, adding, "Now put the white gel onto the flat side, but hurry. You're running out of time before the computer reboots itself! Make haste, Sly!"

"Relax," Sly muttered softly, focusing his concentration on his mind and body. Placing the chip into his muzzle, he reached back into the backpack and pulled a small tube of paste free, then cut the side of the tube open by rubbing it against the edge of the hole he'd made in the metal case. The raccoon grinned then retorted, "Haste makes waste, remember?"

It worked perfectly, slicing the tube from the opposite end. He gave it a squeeze, making sure to get the goop on the bottom of the processor in his muzzle. Sly replaced the paste tube then spit the processor back into his paw, using his thumb to spread the gel across the flat surface of the computer chip. Once that was done, he jammed the replacement chip into the empty socket, released the latch, then swiftly pulled his hook back down and put it into his teeth. Freeing another gadget from one of the inverted sewn pouches in the knapsack.

The little gadget was sort of boxy shaped. It had two parts. One side was a rubber cup-shaped piece, the other was a metal telescopic arm with what looked like a pen attached on the end. One of Bentley's neat little inventions, for sure. While he worked, the computer began its restarting sequence, booting up with the new processor. The basic specifications were the same, but it was designed with Cooper Revenge in mind.

Attaching the rubber suction attachment onto his staff, Sly lowered the end down into the hole he'd made, pulling the trapezoid cutout back up to the hole. While holding it carefully in place, Bentley used his computer back at the safe house to extend the arm from the attachment. It followed the line across the top of the trapezoid hole, using the pen to apply a thin layer of super adhesive glue to the cut mark.

Once the trapezoid shaped hole was sealed, Sly tested it out by tugging the suction cup attachment hard, until it popped off the metal piece. The metallic cutout stayed in place. Sly removed the gadget from his cane, putting it back into his backpack, then took his staff into his teeth and began to climb up the cable, paw over paw, until he reached the vent.

Cooper pulled himself into the air register, then dismounted the hookshot from it's spot in the corner of the vent. Pressing a button on the cylinder-shaped weapon, Sly squinted his eyes as the harpoon cable was reeled in so hard that the end was never given the chance to fall to the floor. Once the hook reached the gun muzzle, it impacted with such a velocity that Sly toppled over. "Umph!"

Packing the hookshot away, Sly replaced the vent back over the duct entrance, then pulled out the final gadget that was packed away. Suction mitts. Gloves and shoe covers that were fitted with suction cups. Sly began his upward climb inside the vent, heading back for the roof.

"So," Sly grunted, while he worked, "Tell me again how this chip is supposed to work, when these slugs take it for Clockwerk?"

While the raccoon scaled the metal shaft, Bentley replied over his radio, "It's simple, Sly! The plan is to smuggle the chip in, through the government and put it in a special server that would be used to run some new Interpol gadget. I think it's a PDA that allows them to tie in to other police mainframes."

"Go on," Sly chided, while working his way up, passed the forked split that went up towards the roof, but led down to either the server room or down to the rest of the computers that were in a far more general room, below the other vent duct.

"So they take the computer offline for network maintenance and swap the chip like we just did. Then they put the new Clockwerk chip into this super techno geek who's a Clockwerk worshiper! He's in charge of rebuilding Clockwerk with the new hate chip," Bentley explained.

Sly balked, "So the guy in charge of repairing Clockwerk is a nerd? I thought you said his followers were all tough? Anyway, sorry to interrupt, continue with your explanation.

The tortes grinned for a moment, then continued. "He's a techno wizard. He built himself a mechanical bodysuit and when he fights, no one is left standing at the end. It's even protected against Electro Magnetic Pulses, some how. So anyway, when they put in the chip we just stuck in that machine, Clockwerk's days of vengeance are finished. I've loaded an apoptosis command into the chip, so that when it's put into Clockwerk, it will cause him to destroy himself, one mechanical component at a time."

"Genius Bentley, absolutely brilliant," Sly chuckled, finally making his way to the roof. He took out a signature raccoon-shaped blue and white business card and tacked it just inside the metallic duct, before climbing up onto the roof. "All done, I'm going to head back to the... wait a minute."

"What's wrong?" Bentley asked over the radio.

Sly coughed, pulling his hook staff to the ready. "I've got company."

"Carmelita?" Bentley asked.

"No, some guy... a wolf." Sly narrowed his eyes, giving the staff a twirl. The lupine lifted it's large paws outwards, causing shadowy tendrils to lance outwards, wrapping around Sly's neck and legs, snatching him from the rooftop and holding him in the air. "Nghh! Bentley, this guy is some sorta supernatural freak!"

Suddenly Sly was slammed back down on the rooftop with a long groan that drowned out Bentley's radio reply. The fiendish tentacles of liquidy shade gripped each of Sly's wrists now, pulling them apart, holding him there. The Wolf approached, taking a punch at Sly. The powerful left hook caused Sly's body to slump a bit.

The manacle, maniacal arms of the abyss seemed to emanate from Sly's over moon-lit shadow, coming out from beneath his feet. They shifted down to his legs, capturing his waist, to keep him standing. The wolf moved about behind sly, walking about him in a circle for a moment, just sizing him up.

He wiggled a clawed finger at Sly with a grin. One of the astral arms of pure gloom seemed to slip into his pack, obfuscated from even Sly's senses. It stole the hate chip with such ease that Sly never even realized it. The Backpack was then lifted from his arms, tossed to the ground.

The veil of inky ebony wrapped around Sly's muzzle, to keep him silent. He couldn't even breath through it. It was like drowning in tar. The shadow appendages lifted him back up into the air. He could see across the rooftop. It's grainy surface was like looking out across a sea of black diamonds.

He felt weightless for a hint of a moment as the rooftop raced upwards to meet him again. The tendrils of shade slammed him back down into the grainy surface again. He struggled but was unable to retain his consciousness, fleeing to the safety of slumber. The stolen anima of Clockwerk was placed into the wolf's pocket and Sly's zonked body was tossed over a shoulder.

The binocucom was pulled from Sly's pocket, stuffed into the bookbag then the wolf picked it up and heaved it off the side of the building as far as it could be thrown. Sly was motionless. Shallow labored breathing was winnowing from his snout. The Wolf leapt from the rooftop, six stories up.

Shadows reached out from beneath vehicles that were at rest beneath various street lights, as well as from the darkest of nearby alleyways. It captured the timberwolf, aiding in his descention to the ground. Once the lupine's feet touched the ground, he began to run, carrying Sly's unconscious form out of Paris.

* * *

**A/N**: _Now we're starting to understand poor Carmelita's Lament. She's lost her badge, her favorite obsession and now she's loosing her mind. She can only bemoan her losses. The only hope anyone has is for her to break through her growing depression and rise up to overcome her losses and best them. With every romantic dream turned ghoulish, she has to struggle with her nightmares and the loss of sleep is about to start catching up with her. What will happen next? Who is this arcane, esoteric wolf and how does he have the ability to harness a tangible shadow? All these questions and more, to be answered... later! Stick around... same Sly Time! Same Sly Channel! _


	4. Hell Hath No Furry

_Edit note:_ (reposted almost 2 hours after original posting): This stone talked about later in this chapter rests in the Cooper Vault often times. It wasn't always used to ensure the Cooper Family had all boys. In fact, if anything, it may have been used as an engagement pendant that a Cooper male would give to his beloved… they'd just so happen to have a male, she'd store it in the vault when Clockwerk came snooping around for it, a daughter or two would be born, but enough males were born to ensure that the name never got changed through marriage or whatnot. I made a tiny worded edit to Sly's reply to Chintzy. I realized that I was about to insult all the females Cooper Fans by not giving props to the Cooper Daughters that occasionally found their way into the intros! My bad :;sweat drop;:

-kit

CARRY ON!

* * *

A/N: _Act1 has closed with much drama and intrigue :)_

_I called it The Waltz because it was three dramatic chapters. (after all, the Waltz is in 3/4 time signature. So I wrote three chapters, since it's sung, dance or played as "1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3.")_

_I really had fun writing this story thus far. I've still got a lot to say & do. As far as the Lambada, which is the name of act2, it's usually done as, "one, two, three…and…" and it's characterized as a dance that goes, quick.. quick.. slow and timing. The female dancer usually follows on the balls of their feet, heels off the ground as if tip-toeing on hot sand, with a twist motion so that their steps become more of a 'grind,' as if stubbing out a cigarette, which emphasizes their hip movements. It's known as the 'forbidden' dance because it's so very sexual. It goes, "quick, quick slow… and-quick quick slow. And-quick, quick slow. So plan for the chapters to follow that writing style. To be honest, the Lambada often starts on the "and" in the fourth beat, as a lead in to the beginning of the measure. I'm doing that here, so by all means, expect chapter 5 and 6 to be fast action paced and chapter 7 to be something more subtle. I start this chapter in first person, just to mix things up… we'll get back into regular third person soon. Don't worry, I won't stay in first person… and my first-person writing won't totally suck. It'll give you some insight to what she's going through and why she's going to help her worst enemy… enjoy!

* * *

_

Act 2: The Lambada

Chapter 4: _Hell Hath No Furry…_

**My eyes were wide open and yet I couldn't see the answers** right before me. This has happened before and it happens to every good Inspector from time to time, but this time was not exactly the best time for something like this to happen. My body ached and I could feel how this frustration was grating on my nerves.

There was a cool gale ripping through the soft brown jacket I was wearing. I could feel my hair being tugged at by the wind from the spot I'd taken on a rooftop. I found myself across the street from the People's Bank of the Czechs' Republic.The fact of the matter was they had Sly Cooper. He was _mine_.

Where they were, I couldn't fathom. My nerves were catching up with me, if I didn't see him soon, who knows… I was turning into an emotional wreck. All this freakin' drama in my life, it was starting to get to me. _Where_ the hell was Sly? My stomach was full of butterflies, he was my prize catch. Worse yet, something about my most recent dream brought me here.

Where has my heart gone? It was an _uneven_ trade for the _real_ world. I wanted to go back to believing in everything and knowing nothing at all. Where _was_ my heart? _I'll tell you_. It was trapped in the eyes of an _immoral_ stranger. He was in trouble and _for once_, it was up to _me_ to help _him_. God, how I wanted to go back to believing in _everything_; the cliché '_love, life and happiness_' with a white picket fence. It wasn't going to happen. He was still my enemy no matter how much I secretly obsessed over him.

But I am an officer of the law. And life really isn't fair. And I'm no longer Naïve. I pressed on, keeping my nose to the wind. I knew things would get hairy from here. The largest bank in the center of downtown Prague was well staffed with intelligent guards and I didn't have a badge. I'd never done anything illegal in my life, save for the minor destruction of public property in the line of Police Duty.

I take that back; I've never done anything illegal. It was _all_ within policy. I never went _over_ the line. But now? _They had Cooper_. He was, is and always will be…_mine_. That's when it happened…

My eyes widened and I couldn't believe it was all true. It had taken hours to get to Prague and the whole time I questioned myself for going on a dumb hunch but now it all paid off. An enigmatic gentleman was _blatant_ly carrying Cooper over his shoulder, walking through the front doors, playing it cool.

Blatant _abduction… _that's what it was. The wolf seemed fairly well built but I knew I could take him if I got my paws on some firearms. I'd have done _any_thing for my Shock Pistol right now, but there was no way I was going to have _that_ wish granted, tonight.

Hopping down from my high point, the ground rushed up to meet my feet and it caused a shiver. I thought of that damn night I had my first nightmare and vaguely remembered falling on my face afterwards. Tonight I was a little more graceful; I had to be at the top of my game to get Cooper back.

The thing is, as I crossed the street, I thought to myself about things that I shouldn't have gotten around to thinking about. If my dreams led me here to save him and he really turned up to be in trouble, how accurate were my dreams? I thought about the psychology of the dreams, really. I didn't do anything to save him, or work as a team with him in those nightmares and he always wound up dead. If I put forth my two cents, maybe he'd survive this. As far as Clockwerk's part in those dreams, well… I didn't want to think about it. How do you arrest a two story metal freak?

You don't; I'll tell you that, right now. My footsteps remained quick and quiet, dashing across the street and stopping in front of the main doors. The bank had closed about an hour ago and I didn't have a plan or any backup. No weapons; it was all a huge mess, waiting to get far sloppier. Moving away from the doors, I began to scout the perimeter, trying to look like an average citizen.

One finger went to my ear and the other went to a small piece of plastic on my belt. I quickly thumbed through the police scanner to see if I couldn't pick up anything about sightings concerning a lupine and a raccoon over his shoulder. It had to look obvious to anyone they'd passed.

"-ector Fox? This is Bentley, over?" My eyes widened and my jaw nearly dropped. Sly Cooper's friend Bentley? It had to be. No one else called someone by their last name over a multi-band police scanner. Besides, I didn't KNOW any other guys named Bentley.

Easing in on the reply switch, I said, "Bentley! What in the heck are you doing? This is an official police-only broadcast radio." I'm not sure why I scolded him. Impulse, I guess.

His reply was short and sweet, "There's a private band multi-frequency radio in the potted plant on the west end of the building. Pick it up so we can work on some sort of plan together. I'll fill you in when you find it. Bentley out." The line went quiet again. I called for him but there was no reply. I found myself heading for the west end of the Bank and checking each of the large potted ceramic containers. They were on the side of the building and added to the bank's landscape; I searched with diligence.

After the third potted plant, I found a pair of high-tech binoculars with a small antenna with 'send' and 'two-way' buttons labeled on the side. A binocucom. I snatched it from the hiding spot, re-wired my personal radio's earpiece into itand opened a channel, easing in on the key marked 'two-way'.

"This is Carmelita, do you read?" I felt silly doing this. Sly did have one thing I could envy, however. He had loyal friends. One would think that Interpol knew the value of a loyal team but sometimes the bad guys had things more together than the good guys. I hated that.

"Inspector Fox, yes I read you," Bentley replied. I cringed, quickly pulling the communicator away from my face. He was over excited and I was in no mood to tolerate someone shouting in my ear. After I was pretty sure he'd calmed down, I brought the communicator back to my face and he continued. "Inspector Fox, are you going to infiltrate the bank to find Sly? You don't have a warrant do you?"

"For once," I said with a wan sigh, "I don't care about a warrant. It wouldn't mean anything right now, anyhow. You know, he turned himself in for you and your get-away driver, once. I hope you have the same companionship ethics."

"Let's not talk about ethics, Miss Fox," Bentley told me. "_You're_ breaking into a heavily secured bank and _I'm_ a cyber-hack and thief. Let's just get Sly!" I couldn't disagree, he had a point; I just wanted to make sure he was prepared to do what it took to get Sly back, the way Sly did what it took to get his two friends to safety. However, it seemed as though he was ready to get down to business right away and that provided some measure of comfort.

After all, we were both professionals. We both stood behind our work with a measure of pride. Either this was about to be the most clever, ingenious rescue operation in history or it would turn into the biggest faux pas blunder and wind up becoming the biggest howler of all time.

"There's no time for gaffe, Miss Fox," the tortoise said, shaking me from my reverie. "I've mapped out a way to get inside, through the local sewage drain, but first you need to arm yourself."

"Don't worry about me," I told him, "I'll manage weapons OSP." I didn't bother to explain that OSP meant "on-site procurement," I just assumed if he didn't know, he'd ask. That never happened. He told me he's only helping me to get Sly back from the abductor. He explained that he is transmitting a frequency over the communication that, while it was above my range of hearing, it would cause any recording equipment to have a distorted playback.

I never argued it, I didn't want someone having blackmail on me for later; I was in enough trouble with Interpol, right this moment. I didn't need any more. This temporary truce between me and the brain of the Cooper gang was my way of using him to get to Sly. Of course he had the same intent, wanting to get to Sly, but I had better reasons, anyhow. I had smartened up since being used by Neyla. That wasn't about to happen again.

After all, this whole thing was an act of desperation on my part. I had to get Sly back to show my Commanding Officer that I was a worthy officer. I just couldn't arrest him until my freakin' suspension was finally lifted. Proving something to the subordinate of the Secretariat General was my only option. If the head of Interpol really _was_ crooked, that meant my precinct's chief was technically the highest ranking person I could trust. However, _he_ was just following orders.

And for once, I was doing the opposite. …But only in the name of Justice and Law. No one knew my religion better than I did. I'm a fourth generation cop, after all. I wasn't taking Law into my own paws, I was simply doing this to get back my prize capture and expose impurity in our organization so that I could expunge it in the name of integrity and justice. Interpol wasn't a stain on someone's sleeve, just the man running it…. If my hunch was correct, that is.

I stood behind my hunch. I operated _better_ when things were Black And White. And right now, I was running on all 8 cylinders.

* * *

**Bentley swallowed hard. He couldn't believe he was** doing this and the thought of working with a cop, suspension or not, was unsettling. Fact was, he didn't know much about her _situation_ as it was. "Yes, uhm," He paused for a moment, "So, Inspector Fox, I take it we're working together for a short time, so I've scoped their security, their floor plans and I think I have a plan that should get you in and out without getting caught, so you keep your job, in exchange for this never having happened, understood?" 

He waited for her reply. He wasn't going to help her if she had plans to arrest him when she got her badge back. "How did you know I was suspended? That's very classified, personal information, tortoise."

"I've got my sources, Miss Fox," Bentley tried not to sound too insulted. There was nothing classified he couldn't access, as far as he felt concerned. To him, she was still a cop, though. He glanced down at his keyboard, tugging the wireless component into his lap and pulling up the file he'd created based on the information he'd gathered on the place. "I've gotten lucky so far. This guy brought none of Sly's gear but he did bring Sly without removing his belt, the staple belt-buckle has a tracking beacon inside of it. I monitored all phone calls made by this guy to some guy calling himself "SG1". Now, are we in accordance or not?"

"SG," Carmelita said with a sigh, "means Secretariat General, if my hunch is correct. We have a deal. This never happened." Her image appeared on the left corner of Bentley's computer screen. Apparently she'd put the earpiece into place and was using the binoculars to scout the building from an alleyway across the street.

The turtle's eyes scanned over her face. Sapphire tresses framed the vixen's feminine visage. No wonder Sly liked this woman so much. Bentley noted that she was far more attractive on the screen than in her file. He'd seen her face to face before, but it was either the lighting or the fact that he was looking at her in a different metaphorical light, right now, because she was about to help Sly. Pretty girl. Sly would do well to work things out with 'old iron sides," as he called her from time to time.

* * *

**Sly Cooper's eyes fluttered** open. The wolf he faced was nowhere in sight. But before him was a pair of metallic bars that slid into focus. They blurred again as his focus now shifted beyond them to the sight of an ethereal beauty on the other side of his new cage. 

The purest of white furs caressed along a curvaceous little form, clinging like a blanket of fresh virgin snow. That soft sea of silken pearl was broken only by those intricate patterns made of contrasting carnation pink fur. Ancient symbols coiled around supple young curves. Their unknown meaning had been lost to the passage of time.

Always the carefree girl, she was the third last of her race; the product of a heated union between feline and fox. A thin pink top cascaded over luscious young breasts which seemed to perk up with every step towards Cooper's cell, causing a constricting shirt to tug against them. Perfect grip-able hips, and that firm heart - shaped rump, hidden beneath a short flowing skirt of white made this girl absolutely noticeable.

Golden locks of sunlight fell to brush against her shoulders and part reluctantly about twin feline ears. Mischievous yet innocent sea-green orbs twinkled like emeralds between soft sandy bangs, and her pink tinted cheeks. The raccoon's eyes widened slightly, his pupils dilating.

"Good evening, Monsieur Cooper," She said in a dreamy, feminine voice.

Trying to maintain his casual air of indignation, Sly replied, "What happened to your boyfriend? I was just warming up when he got the drop on me."

"Mm," She murmured the sound with a smile. Her ears perked a bit then her muzzle tugged further into a grin, offering a Cheshire expression. "Far from my boyfriend, I assure you. That one, Donovan Loupe, is an enigma, my boy."

"Boy?" Sly scoffed, "You've got to be in high school, still. So what do they put in the water in your cafeteria?" Cooper tilted his head, trying to keep his eyes from wondering. The girl looked only 14 or 15, easily. The thing is... she was endowed like a busty 25 year old woman on hormones.

"You've still not figured it out without your brainy friend," pouted the lush little Felox. Her dazzling smile disappeared for a moment, only to return with her fangs bared. The pearly incisors glistened like the whitest ice. "He's of no use, he can't carry out his own plans without the help of those who exceed his own physical limitations," She added.

"And it seems you can't carry yourself without a wonder bra," Sly retorted, turning away to take his eyes off of her luscious form. "Is my team that illustrious, lady?"

"My, you used a large word, I'm nearly impressed," giggled the half-breed. "I thought you were a brainless pretty-boy with an overly unnatural dexterity."

"By all means, go on thinking that. If I'm not a complete nerd, I must be a complete idiot," Sly replied with a shrug, facing the back of the cell. It was solid concrete and easily looked impenetrable. He rarely took his eyes off of a foe but with bars between the two of them, he meant for it to be recognized as a gesture of insult.

"Brains or not," Said the woman, "the view is nice from back here," She continued before pausing dramatically. Finally she offered a thespian sigh, adding, "my _name_ is Karla Chintzy. Donovan and I are all too pleased to bring you here to lure your Inspector friend out to Prague. You're going to die, Sly Cooper, so I might as well tell you that she's got to die because she simply meddles in the affairs of our employer far too often and now that he is her superior in Interpol, she's a loose cannon that needs to get the big deep-six."

"Your last name fits you perfectly," Sly chuckled under his breath. He walked across the cell then sat down on a bench and offered a shrug. "I've _used_ prettier girls."

"If it's Constable Neyla you speak of," Said Karla, "Then please realize, she used you first, m'boy. I'm older than I look."

"Neyla?" Sly rolled his eyes. "She was just a protégé of an idiot. We let her lead us in the right direction because she thought she was using us to get things uncovered for her, when she was completely responsible for involving my clique in finding the Clockwerk parts in the first place."

"Your coterie set back a lot of people," Said Karla. "Clockwerk was our greatest asset and at the same time, our greatest pawn. His destruction needs must be avenged, boy." She pressed her torso against the cell bars, easing her muzzle between two of the iron cylinders. "But Carmelita destroyed something vital and so that makes her the first to go, so we can continue."

"Since I'm going to die anyway," Sly mused thoughtfully, "What exactly are you trying to continue?"

"Rebuilding him, of course." Chintzy looked pleased with herself. "We've rebuilt his main processor. We've archived his metallic mind onto a computer hard drive and now we're going to rebuild him. There is too much he is required for," She explained with a shrug. "And we have _you_ to thank for retrieving the chip and bringing it to us."

"I'll rip him apart all over again," Sly hissed defiantly. "Just because you got the stupid chip back in your paws doesn't mean you'll be able to complete the project. He's done for; all you're building is a rip off version of something that's already gone forever."

"Do you not realize why he was a rival of your ancestors, Monsieur Cooper?" The olive eyes of the opulent vision of femininity sparkled with mirth. Her gaze danced over his masculine features, causing her to lick her lips before continuing to speak forth. "You see," She told him with a personal tone, "He was part of us… a freak of nature. He was a bit of a kleptomaniac in his youth but it was usually because we used him as a pawn to do our bidding."

"I'm so totally impressed by your circus sideshow," Sly muttered.

"And so we had him obtain a fertility stone," She explained overtop of his brusque grumble. "It's a one hundred forty-three karat diamond stone that causes the holding couple to guarantee a male offspring, let alone any offspring. Our race of supernatural beings cannot bare our own progeny."

Sly Cooper, ever concise, finished her statement. "He obtained it, my family stole it off of him before he could deliver it to you guys, he spent ages trying to get it back and all this time, it had been sitting, securely, in the Cooper family vault, right? And whenever a daughter was born in the Cooper family, it was assumed that it was because the stone was currently sitting in the family vault in disuse or something?"

"Really now," She snapped, "Was it truly that obvious?" The milky-pink furred feline swished her bushy fox-tail from left to right in a sign of irritation. "Don't agitate me, Monsieur Cooper. I'm not as predictable as you think."

"And instead of asking for it back so all your buddies can get you pregnant," Sly began, mock-yawning in an attempt to look bored, "You decided to have Clockwerk continue to shank my family members in an attempt to retrieve it for you? I've lost all revere for Clockwerk; I thought he was the devil but it turns out he was just a powerful imp."

"Your prattle amuses me. However, this ceaseless banter is no longer necessary," Karla told him. "_SHE_ is here. As far as what's in your silly vault, we attempted that route with Doctor M. However promising, he turned out to be another disappointment. Ultimately he became paranoid with fear of us always hounding him for results. He set up a rather amusing fortress and in his delusional state, we had hoped he would simply stumble onto success."

Sly blinked, standing up once more. Carmelita was here? He couldn't understand why she came for him. "However," Continued Karla Chintzy, "Between your buddies and the Interpol Inspector, we've had our greatest failures in the last few years. And that is why you both must die. I'll return later, when I am able to gloat about using her skull as a goblet. Until then, Monsieur Cooper!"

Before he could offer rebuttal, she turned from the cell and her body began to crystallize. There was a soft glowing aura that emanated from the archaic glyphs that were branded into her flesh and fur. The chrysalis crystalloid structure frosted over so that it went from translucent to opaque. Sly approached the bars, watching curiously.

Suddenly, a crack formed over the jagged structure, followed by several other perpendicular fractures and splinters which eventually caused the entire crystalline block to become covered with fissures. Two solid chunks cleft in twain. They shattered to tiny ash-like pieces, leaving nothing more than a wisp of steam to hover above the dusty remains. Sly blinked rapidly. There were no smoke bombs or other devices used, just a clean supernatural trick with no mirrors involved.

No, this was simply an esoteric, iniquitous freak. Her beautiful visage was the only thing that overcame her malevolence. And now she would use that malice in combat against Inspector Carmelita, for all Cooper could determine. Sly knew that Miss Fox couldn't even fathom what she was about to get into. He quickly ran to either end of the cell, checking for any loose cinder blocks nearest to where the corner bars were located.

The cell, however, was as solid as they came. If he didn't figure out something soon, he feared he wouldn't be able to save Carmelita this time around. He couldn't just sit around; he had to keep searching for a flaw in the cell. The problem was, there were no flaws in the architecture that he could discern.

* * *

**Carmelita Fox placed the** padded palms of her paws upon the metallic maintenance hatch. She pushed upwards on it and the hinges squeaked softly in light protest. Climbing up into the boiler room, the vixen was quick to scurry behind the heating system as Bentley directed. 

"Incidentally," She murmured softly, "Where are you located?"

"I'm nowhere near Prague, that's for sure. I can't just leave Paris in the middle of this convention," Bentley explained, not bothering to tell her that he had to stay to ensure the stolen chip was good enough to pass scrutiny, lest he have another problem on his claws.

The tortoise coughed softly over the microphone, "Inspector Fox, what's your ulterior motive for rescuing Sly?"

"What're you talking about," retorted the vixen, balking over his innuendo. "It's because he's my prize catch, I can't let him slip away."

Bentley wasn't buying it. He tilted his head over the liquid-crystal-display monitor that covered her left eye and said, "Our names are currently cleared. If they weren't, you'd have arrested him at the Café."

"How'd you know about that?" She snapped quietly, narrowing her eyes. Bentley didn't reply. She finally just shook her head and added, "Because this time he's a victim and did nothing wrong. Abduction is an international crime, remember?"

"There's something you're not telling me, is there?" The turtle asked with a chuckle. This time, Carmelita didn't answer. She put her paws on the edge of the metallic cylinder and hoisted herself up, over the lip. Crouched atop the heater, she glanced up and grinned. The nerd was right; there was a return register directly above her. "Didja find it?" He asked, nearly startling her.

"Yeah. It's here. I'm going to climb up into the vent and see what I can do," She told him. After a moment, she added another thought, aloud. "When I get to this supposed vertical shaft, are you sure it's narrow enough that I can scale it?"

Bentley simply sighed. It wasn't that he was being short tempered with her but the situation was certainly a frustrating one. "As long as you utilize your feet, paws and back, you should be able to wiggle up the shaft, but if you fall, you're sure to break a leg… so don't."

"Thank you," Sighed Fox in reply. She began to scuffle through the vent, occasionally lifting a paw to brush back those lengthy strands of cerulean which partially obscured those soft dark-amber hues. Every so often, she passed through a section of the vent that allowed light in through the gaps in the metallic plate sections.

The voluptuous vixen eased to the left, following directions given to her earlier, then stopped where the ductwork went straight up. She wiggled up into the 90 degree angle then stood up in the vertical section, doing her best to reach back and smooth out her tail.

She placed her paws up against the edges, arching her back and jutting her rump outwards. She then placed her feet and knees up against the shaft walling, beginning to wiggle her body upwards. Azure locks fluttered down over her face once more, growing cumbersome. She placed her paws directly in front of herself, wiggling another few inches upwards.

She kept her paws and knees firm against one end of the ductwork and her rump firm against the other end; she was able to move upwards in this fashion. Every so often, she'd find a vent register for her foot to gain purchase. Each time she came across one, she'd rest for a moment before trudging on, vertically.

Bentley's next reply was quiet and subtle so as not to startle her while she worked her way up the heating ventilation. "Inspector Fox, you're almost there. You've traveled two and a half stories so far. The register will actually be on your right and it will be pretty large; square shaped."

"Until further notice, just Carmelita will do," She huffed while working her body upwards. It took another few minutes to shimmy her body up to the metal grate. She lifted her left arm, crossing over her chest, then pressed her left thumb against one of the metal pins that held the aluminum painted covering in its place. One of them fell through the slats in the vent, the other popped out, landing on the carpeted floor on the other side of the vent. The one that went through the slats fell all the way to the bottom of the shaft.

She peered through the vented opening then called on Bentley; her voice at a whisper. "I'm here. Can you tell if things beyond my field of vision are kosher?"

"Well Inspector F-..er'm, Miss Carmelita, I've hacked into their surveillance cameras by placing a remote host program into their security computer terminal," Bentley began. He was quickly interrupted by the Vixen, who simply didn't want the mental masturbation talk.

"Short and simple, I'm multitasking my brain to keep myself alive, thanks," She muttered.

"I can see through their security cameras. Your hallway is completely clear, make your move," Bentley added in a flat voice. Carmelita did so, pushing the vent cover away from herself. She reached up to either side of the opening but felt her body beginning to slip.

"Oh… sh—," She quickly grabbed for the ledge, her fingertips sinking into lush, velvet carpeting. Her body hung at the mercy of her grip on the edge of the register that was at floor level on the third story. Furry digits curled into a half-fist, keeping a solid grip on the carpeted ledge, so as not to plummet to a probable death.

She clawed at the carpeted flooring just outside of the ventilation shaft in vain, attempting to hoist herself upwards, still dangling within. Her body tightened up, working herself into a stable position, with a three story drop into the abyss beneath her feet. Carmelita placed her heels against the back of the shaft in an attempt to push her body forward, through the square gap in the vent system.

Back in Paris, Bentley was using his laptop and his desktop to determine what the security cameras saw and replaced them with what the empty hallway looked like on a three second loop. On his desktop, the live action image portrayed a tiny being coming through the wall. Head and hair, followed by shoulders that linked to the arms and paws she was nearly laying atop of in attempt to claw herself from the shaft.

The body language she had did well to tell him she was pushing herself free with her feet. The vixen's left arm reached outward, groping for more carpet. She pulled herself from the hole, then rolled onto her back for a moment to catch her breath. She wasted no time, however, with getting back onto her feet. He could hear her voice before he could see her lifting the binocucom to her muzzle. Obviously, the system had a short second-and-a-half lag time, between Paris and Prague. Even so, he decided that the fiber optic network was rather fast.

Her voice took a harsh tone over the communicator. "I don't think we're going out the way we came in, so I hope you're working on a plan to get both of us out of here, once I find him."

"Way ahead of you," Bentley lied," I'll get you guys out safely but expect to put up some sort of fight," He added in earnest. His solemn worded expression told her that he wasn't being frivolous from his computer post, back in France. "You can trust in me just once, right Miss Carmelita?"

She was about to correct him concerning the "Miss" part, but she simply shook her head in stead, moving down the hallway. The vulpine moved to the door, turning the brass knob slowly and peering into the next hallway. It was eerily empty. "I thought you said this place would be heavily guarded and there would be combat involved," She muttered softly.

"I can't explain the absence of guards or staff, beyond the Luck Factor," Replied the Tortoise over her in-ear radio attachment. What Bentley couldn't see over the black and white security image and what she didn't realize, was the shadow that was growing out from underneath of her footsteps. With every treaded footfall, the shadow grew larger, emanating from beneath her feet. She paused, mid-stride and glanced back, over her shoulder.

Her eyes widened and the athletic vixen's posture changed, turning around and putting her paws up in a defensive stance. Bentley's voice came over the radio once more. "What are you doing?" He said in his slightly nervous, nasal-like restricted voice.

"Can't you see it?" She whispered in reply.

"See what?" Bentley asked, adjusting the hue, contrast and finally the sharpness on his monitor. It looked as though she was standing at the end of a lengthy 5 o'clock shadow. The dark matter solidified into a tangible, visual mass. The turtle's eyes shrunk to pinholes and his breath caught in his throat. "Oh no! Carmelita! It's the wolf! _RUN!_"

* * *

A/N: _muwahaha. It's become pretty obvious that the character running this show of evil is also the director of a large bank with indefinite funding at his disposal... and who are these two new members of the Previously Assumed "clockwerk worshippers"? Sounds to me like they're actually Clockwerk's old Superiors... every bad guy usually answers to someone else... but an "Illuminati of Iniquity"? And it looks like they've been involved with the Cooper's since the beginning, simply making Clockwerk the face of their schemes. Sly never realized just how deep this all went and how his involvement really added up. All because The Supernatural lack the ability to bare their own offspring, they - like everyone - instinctively desire the right to survive by means of reproduction. Afterall, it's the meaning of life itself. Apparently a talisman charm in the form of a diamond gives someone the power to bare children. In the hands of the mortal man, it guarantees the next of kin to be "XY" Male. And thus, nearly every Cooper picture we see in the introduction of each SlyGame has been a male descendant, except for a select few. One can suppose it has spent a little time in the Cooper Vault for some of the Cooper Daughters. And as far as Sly, if he never even knew about it, maybe he was just good ole' fashion luck-of-the-XY-draw. It's hard to know for sure until we get further into the story. But remember, that's only a subplot... our main story revolves around the ever lovable vixen, making her a spotlight protagonist right now!  
Heh, am I putting TOO much thought into this story? hehe. Anyway, get ready for Chapter 5, coming soon!_


	5. Like a woman scorned

A/N: _I love the reviewer who says she'll take shots everytime I call Carmelita a Voluptuous Vixen. I made a quick edit to the last chapter, after being clued into female Cooper ancestors having been spotted at the beginning of Sly3. I got the game but I'm trying to play through 1 and 2 first :) However, there **IS** a Sly3 ending Spoiler, which I've marked with a quick author's note. Sowwy! It's kinda hard to write a post sly3 story without making SOME measure of mention… I had to find out from a friend because I've not gotten through it yet, m'self. Lol. _

_As far as this stone, who's to say it isn't anything more than a big diamond with an even bigger rumor behind it? That's a SuperNatural being, for ya. Over Analyzing stuff like that. Or maybe one of them blessed this thing? Who knows, let's go and find out, shall we? _

_-K dawg

* * *

_

Chapter 5: …_Like a woman scorned._

**Carmelita narrowed her mocha gaze, relaxing her body and allowing herself to settle into the zone to prepare for **a physical brawl. Donovan Loupe rose from the elemental shade, like some sort of eerie wraith. She glanced about herself to ensure she wasn't going to be surrounded and that's when her eye caught the gaze of another.

Karla Chintzy, half-breed feline fox, approached the two with a dazzling smile. Her attire had changed since Sly had last seen her. Some sort of one-piece body suit that resembled a leotard but with a 'V' split just above the midriff that tastefully covered her bosom and continued up over her shoulders, meeting in an 'X' just beneath her shoulder blades, overtop the mid-point of her spine, continuing down to reveal only the small of her back and the nape of her neck, where the material attached over her heart-shaped rear.

She approached Carmelita, offering a respectful nod to Donovan before placing her paw against Carmelita's chin. "Ah, so we finally meet."

Carmelita's paws tightened into fists, knuckles turning white beneath the fur. "And who are you, strutting around like some sort of heifer?"

"Heifer? Are you suggesting that I'm part of the bovine family?" Karla asked with a devious smirk. "I love when women attempt to insult another woman's vanity. It amuses me to watch you lower your pseudo-intellect, my dear."

"So where is he?" Carmelita simply asked. She cut her gaze back to Donovan then glared at the overly attractive Felox, once more. "Don't give me any of your half-breed short talk, where's Cooper?"

"My, aren't we an emotional one?" Karla mused playfully. "You realize you're breaking the law by being here?"

"I am the law," Carmelita said, narrowing her gaze once more.

"Not anymore," Karla said almost overtop of the vixen's rebuttal. Chintzy lifted her paw to Donovan, causing him to step back. He folded his arms across his chest and paused, deciding it would be interesting to see the two women go at it. Almost instinctively the two women began to circle one another as if they had rehearsed some sort of dance steps. "We own Interpol now. You're just a washed up, rusty old, loose cannon."

"Is that right? So, answer my question. Where's Cooper?" Carmelita continued to drive the circular straifing. Her eyes were squinted to slits and her upper lip curled back to snarl, baring her fangs.

"He was in my bed earlier," Karla fibbed, lifting her left paw to glance at her nails before raising her own lime orbs to return a glare at Carmelita. "Donovan, please go check on our guest. Make sure that he's comfortable and happier in our cell than he would be in Carmelita's cell."

"Fine," sneered the wolf, leaving the hallway. He walked to the nearest door then sunk into the depths of the shadows, disappearing beneath the door in a dark fog-like vapor trail.

"Wonderful! That leaves just us. Interpol must be awfully boring, anyhow," Chintzy giggled. "By the way, allow me to introduce myself, Carmelita Montoya. My name is Karla Chintzy Cooper."

"Liar, you're not related to Sly," Inspector Fox snapped with a disgusted tone of voice.

The Felox smirked and said, "Not yet. Do you know how a Praying Mantis copulates with her mate? I'll be trying out the diamond on Mister Cooper, then I'll kill him when I'm sure to bare offspring, as he won't be necessary any longer."

"Whatever _that_ is supposed to mean!" The Inspector snapped. Carmelita simply shifted her weight, pivoting on her left heal, to bring her right leg outwards in a roundhouse kick. Her right heel caught Karla across the jaw but the youthful looking Chintzy was hardly phased, beyond having her head snapped to the side.

"Is that your best?" Asked the esoteric woman. She lifted her paw and the glyphs on her body began to glow.

Carmelita found herself weightless, suddenly breaking into a high velocity. Next thing the vixen realized, she was sailing through the air, crashing into the door she'd just come through. It was apparently pretty sturdy. She didn't even go through it. Instead, Carmelita slid down to the ground with a grunt.

"I don't even need to touch you," Karla said, placing her paws upon her hips. "Why would you want to fight for a man you hate? I'm just curious, really."

Carmelita didn't answer; she just pushed her feet off the ground and immediately kicked her legs over herself, easing into a somersault and landing on her paws. She bound off her palms, moving into a roll, ending with her leg sweeping across the ground. Karla tumbled back but before her body could slam upon the ground, she disappeared.

When the antagonistic devil reappeared, she was standing straight up, with her arms folded across her chest. "Pathetic," the woman mused at Carmelita. "You have no job, you have no clout, and you're a wash up. A meter maid, if anything," Karla said, seeking to attack Carmelita's hard work as an officer, as well.

The full breed vulpine quickly shifted back, from one foot to the other, kicking at Karla again. The Felox disappeared and reappeared from behind. Carmelita whirled about, throwing two punches, then she dropped to sweep her leg out in an attempt to knock Karla down. Before Chintzy could reply, she was toppled over, only to disappear before hitting the ground.

Somehow, Carmelita made some sort of mental guess as to where the half-breed monstrocity would show up next. Carmelita pivoted about, throwing an uppercut just as Karla appeared in front of the fist, just in time for the punch to connect. The half-breed disappeared once more, reappearing and punching Carmelita from behind.

Carmelita flipped about, trying to anticipate the next maneuver once again but her next kick only purchased air. Karla appeared adjacent to Carmelita, delivering two quick punches before fading from reality once more. Her teleportation brought her to the other side of the fox, trying to confuse the ex-cop.

"Stay still, you cheap jezabel!" shouted the vixen, in an attempt to bring her fight to the Felox half-breed.

"So tell me, why fight to save a man you hate?" Karla giggled, her voice an eerie reverberation that came from thin air, when the feline-fox was in mid teleport.

"Who says we've never slept in the same bed?" Inspector Fox snapped with a smirk. It was partially true. Shortly after Sly's family vault sunk into the island, after Doctor M was defeated, the raccoon disappeared from his friends for a while, leaving his cane and personal belongings where Bentley and crew would find them. "We lived together for a while(#: Note below)," Carmelita added.

"Oh and tell me, was he good in your bed?" Karla mused playfully, returning to the realm of the physical. Before Carmelita could land another punch, the half-breed disappeared back into the Umbra, only to reappear behind the Vixen to give her a shove.

"I wouldn't know," Carmelita replied honestly, the hint of challenge in her voice becoming a round-about way of calling Karla a tramp, once more. "We dated(#: _Spoiler warning: Ending of Sly3_). I'm not a dirty hussy, like yourself. We didn't marry, we're not ready for that. But he _is_ **mine**," she explained, bellowing her posession at the end of the statement.

"Now that's interesting to have learned," Karla mused, quickly appearing ajacent to the fullbreed vulpine, just in time to snatch Carmelita's punch in mid air from an angle off to the side. She spun Carmelita off balance, then drew her left paw back. The glyphs in her palm began to glow then she delivered a hard jab in Carmelita's chest, knocking her back to the wall.

Carmelita panted softly, trying her best to stand up. Chintzy shook her head slowly, "That's interesting. I thought for sure I had the timing correct to stop your heart with that strike. Lucky girl; the Almighty Creator of Fate must be looking out for you, but that's no matter. I've got plenty of time to ahnialate you, my dear. And when I do, Sly is mine, then he dies."

"Carmelita!" It was Bentley's voice in her earpiece radio reciever. "I've been doing some internet research on this chick. Her species is a fairytale villian, apparently they really do exsist. To beat her, you've got to distract her other sensory abilities. Overload them! Scream in her ear, flash bright lights in her eyes, do something! She can't effectivly use her frontal lobe when she's distracted and off balance by a loud noise or sudden blindness. She'll be stunned momentarily and that's when you need to follow with an attack!"

Carmelita never responded, so that Karla never realized that the vixen was playing with an advantage. If she could get her paws on a magnesium FlashBang Grenade, she'd have been all set. The thing is, right now, she didn't even have so much as a gun. That's it! A gun! If she could make a break for it and have this beast follow her, maybe she could obtain a gun from one of the guards.

The Inspector made a dash for the door on the far end of the room. She shouldered the door hard. It only stole some of her momentium, but was still the fastest way to go through. The door burst open and Carmelita found herself faced with a perpendicular hallway.

She threw her paws upwards, recieving the wall then pushing off of it in one graceful motion. Instinctivly breaking to the left, she recovered from the slight stumble, heading down the hallway as quickly as she could manage. In the brief moment she was able to lift her eyes, she saw an ornimental mirror at the end of the hall. In it, she saw Karla coming through the door then disappearing. Next, she was a third of the way down the hall before disappearing again. Once more the freakish being disappeared and was now slightly more than halfway down the hall.

Carmelita approached the mirror, shifting her weight to make a right into the next section of the hall. At a glimpse, the supernatural woman was now more than two thirds of the way down the hall. She was catching up and it was going to be difficult to outrun her. The vixen knew she had to be as sly as a fox if she was going to outwit this one.

She waited until Karla began a teleportation transmission again, then turned back the other way, throwing all of her body weight into the pivot, to maintain her momentium. It carried her back, just the right way, so that she was now running back down the hall and around the corner. By the time the half-breed reappeared, Carmelita was no where to be seen.

She followed her footprints back the way she came, to throw the other woman off of her scent trail. Carmelita Fox knew she had to hurry. She passed the door she'd come through, heading down the right end of the hallway, and immediately took the nearest staircase she found.

Bentley's voice was back in her ear once more as she ran, taking 3 steps at a time. "There's a security office on the first floor! Expect it to be well staffed; but don't be surprised if it's not, the bank IS closed after all!"

"Yeah, yeah," Carmelita groaned, "That's where I'm going!" The athletic anti-hero jumped the next set of 10 steps, flipping her legs up over her head, landing on the ground with a graceful sweep of her tail. She then took off down the next set, shouldering the first floor door open.

The fiesty vixen had broken into a full sprint, charging the office across the lobby that was labeled 'Security'. Just as someone was opening the door, holding a cup of coffee, she dove forward, throwing some rent-a-cop tarrier to the ground. The coffee splashed across the wall, striking fear in her heart at the memory of what Sly's blood looked like as a grim mosaic across the wall of the office, in her most recent dream.

In that moment, she simply blinked. Her mind went cloudy and her perception seemed to be blurry, like a drug-induced state, if only for a moment. Everything felt fuzzy. Carmelita reached out, groping for the blurry outline of a weapon on the desk just as the strange sensation began to disapate.

She shook off the sudden memory, snatching up the first weapon she saw. It sat on a desk next to a clipboard of paperwork. She checked the clip, grabbed a full one off a shelf on the side, slapped the fresh one home, then flipped off the safety and pointed it at the cop on the ground. "STAY DOWN!"

She placed the muzzle to the man's snout, using her free paw to disarm him of his own pistol, then exicuted a swift kick to the tarrier's head, behind his ear. The maneuver rendered the canine unconcious. Dispite the point that Bentley had made in the stairwell, via radio, she was still surprised at the lack of evening guards.

Both pistols were lifted forward, heading back towards the stairs, but this time, she was taking each step cautiously. Inspector Fox moved up the first staircase, now at the second floor. Part of her wanted to hunt for Sly as well, so she headed out into the second floor hallway, beginning to look around.

She stood in a square hall that surrounded a large, open office. There was a door with a frosted glass square at the top. She kicked it in, leveling both weapons towards the inside of the large office, quickly noting cluttered desks. Four rows, each with 5 desks from front to back. At the far end, she noted three wooden doors with names over them. Each of the three smaller offices had wooden doors of their own, with frosted glass, each holding the name of a different supervisor.

Sharp eyes noted a piece of wire that went across the ground between the two desks nearest to her. She hopped up, onto the desk, then leaned over to peer beneath it. There was a small wad of plastique where the string was touching. Trip-wire explosive traps. Her eyes narrowed, she was not in the mood to play around.

Taking each desk by hopping across them, she went to the back of the room then leapt from the last desk, delievering a flying kick into one of the office doors on the end. The door swung open so hard that the knob on the inside became lodged in the plaster wall inside that smaller office.

Large diamonds sat on the table, loosly, and arranged in rows and columns. She simply blinked a few times. After a moment to let her mind acclimate to the massive diamond chunks sitting on a desk, she took out the binocucom and pointed the lens at the table. "What the hell is that!"

"Holy smokes!" Bentley errupted. "That's a good question! I'd tell you to grab them, but you don't have time, let alone the pocket-room for it, just get out of there and find Sly!"

Carmelita shoved the electronic goggles back into her pocket and made a dash back across the desks to search the other two offices. They all had the same things. Possibly millions of dollars in diamonds sitting out, loose, arranged in columns and rows. She hopped back onto one of the desks in the large part of the office when the door at the other end of the room clicked open. The wolf stood in the doorway, his arms folded.

"None of them," he began, licking his lips before finishing, "were the correct diamond. They're all worthless rocks that belong in the mortal world, on paws of stupid mortal women. You've proven yourself as a neusance. Ready to die?" With that, he flipped on the overhead lighting.

Carmelita crouched down upon her position on one of the desks. Her pupils shrunk and the room brightened dramatically. The shadow beneath her, cast along the desk began to lift up from the table, reaching up at her throat. She leapt off the desk, landing up the next. Again, her own shadow attempted to gain purchase, this time at her legs.

Before it could wrap its shadey tendrils around her ankles, she somersaulted across the gap, landing on the next desk. She had to keep moving, lest it capture her. Her deepest, most inner child-fear instincts told her to keep moving. Carmelita lifted her left paw, pointing one of the handguns at Donovan, firing off a shot.

The bullet slammed into his right shoulder, spinning him like a top. Immediatly the shadows dropped back to the floor. The vulpine cop hopped over to the next desk, pointing both weapons down at his injured form. He smirked up at her, from where he lay on the ground. His left paw lifted and before she had time to react, the shadow beneath her feet lifted her straight up, slamming her into the ceiling.

It disapaited and she began to fall. Landing flat on her face, on the desk, she groaned at the pain of collapsing to her chest. Those lush globes of flesh and fur took the brunt of the impact, easily knocking the air out of her lungs. What most men failed to realize was that it was nearly as bad as being kicked in the crotch.

She struggled, still holding both guns. Bringing her right paw forward, she brought the sights of the weapon between her gaze and his body. Before she could squeeze off the round, another tenticle, the epitomy of black, wrapped around the gun's muzzle, forcing it to the side. She misfired. The bullet disappeared into the floor. Donovan Loupe just grinned.

"I'm going to kill your little girlfriend, too," Carmelita snarled.

"She's not my girlfriend, you narrowminded twit," Said the timber wolf, using the shadow to rip the gun out of her right paw. He wiggled a finger and the pistol whipped her across the jaw. She reached for it, trying to wrestle the gun away from the shadow, but it was far stronger than she. Blood trickled down from between her lips, where she'd been struck.

In mid struggle, she stole a glance back at Donovan and noticed he was watching in amusement. She acted on his distraction, turning her left arm back at him and fired her other gun. The bullet screamed through his left paw, causing him to howel in pain. The resistance on her other gun ended and she resecured it into her right paw, suddenly turning about to point both of them at Loupe. "End of the road, jack."

The gleam in Carmelita's gaze told him that she was ready to fill him with holes. He simply shook his head as if he were bored and said, "You simply have no idea. We're immortal, you twit." She fired again, hitting him in his left shoulder, so that he had no use of either arm, let alone his paws.

"Okay, so I'm impressed," Carmelita murmured softly. She hopped off the last desk and approached him, placing both guns against his neck. "But if I seperate your head from your shoulders, doesn't that sorta make you harmless?"

His eyes narrowed. Inspector Fox grinned, adding, "I thought so."

* * *

**Meanwhile, Karla Chintzy reproached Sly's cell** and rested her arms against the bars, above her head, to accentuate her lush form. "Your little friend is here, looking for you. Clever girl, but Donovan will find her." 

"Better hope she doesn't come across some weapons before they meet up," Sly said with a chuckle. "You guys rely pretty heavily on your powers, it seems. I didn't see that guy move very much during our fight. I might have been kept at bay by his shadows, but that won't stop a bullet."

"There are four of us, Sly." She simply smiled after the statement, just to see what his reaction would be. Confusion like she had hoped for, of course. "Donovan and I work for the bank. Then there's the Genius, he's running the rebuilding of Clockwerk."

"And the guy who's posing as the head of Interpol?" Sly mused.

"You're further in the loop than I gave you credit for. Yes, he's Mister Persuasion. No one can say no to him. No one has the willpower to defy him, not even me," She explained. "Good thing he's fair to those who help him, no one's ever been able to go against his wishes, as long as I've known him."

"And when did you guys... ah... meet?" Sly asked, tilting his head.

"Victorian era, mid 1800's, if you must know," She replied, rolling her shoulders back in a shrug. "He's the oldest one of us. No one knows his true age."

"Still not impressed," Sly mused, offering a very plain yawn. With a gesture of Karla's right paw, she teleported Sly's body off of the bench at the back of the cell, so that he was directly on the other side of the bars from her. She reached through, delivering a hard punch, before teleporting him to the ceiling. He reappeared about ten feet from the floor and rapidly fell to the ground.

Cooper slowly picked himself up with a groan. "What in the hell was that? Your power?"

"The ability to manipulate the physical into the realm of the metaphysical, only to reappear anywhere I can see. So remember, Sly," She told him, "If I can see you, or if you can see me, you're in absolute danger. But you're too delicious to kill just yet," She continued with a promising air.

The raccoon came to his feet, grunting softly. "I could get the drop on you with nothing more than some parlor trick mirrors. You don't impress me. Every thief uses misdirection every day."

"Don't be a fool," She warned. Without warning, a book that was resting on a shelf, across the room from the cell, disappeared and reappeared in Sly's cell.

"Going to make me read to death?" He chuckled, the defiance still strong in his voice. She shook her head in reply, then with but a thought, the book's will bent to her whim, suddenly floating across the air at a high velocity, striking Sly across the side of his head. It hit him so hard his eyes went wide and he could sort of feel his consciousness begin to ebb away.

Sly lowered his gaze, watching down the length of his muzzle as his face connected with the ground. He was unconscious before it happened, however. His mind swirled into the abyss and opening up before his subconscious eye was the vapor-like mist of Morphius. His dream was nothing more than a flashback of past events.

* * *

_He'd played off change and reform to get closer to her. They shared an apartment for six whole months at one point and spent every waking moment together but the truth of the matter was, they were still different people. Sly was a thief who had Cooper children to teach one day in the future and Carmelita was still as black and white about crime as ever. Perhaps it was too early to try a relationship yet but the time they spent in her Paris Apartment was special. _

_Despite popular rumors, they never explored too deeply into the realm of the physical. That was something for marriage and Sly wasn't quite ready to settle down just yet; at least not a deep enough relationship to take a spouse. He was in love but there was a time and place for every action. Carmelita may have felt as though he was just playing with her heart but the simple fact of the matter was, the timing just wasn't right, yet. _

_He kissed her good night one evening, over a year ago then placed a blue card on the pillow besides her own. This one was a bit more special, however. He wrote a poem on the back that basically said while all good things must come to and end, their good things were still ahead of them. It was a sweet group of lines that were written from the heart. But in the end, she was still pissed off at him to an extent. _

_Sly returned to Bentley for his cane. That's how the whole darn thing got restarted. There was something he had to do and when that came to an end, they'd learned of the Clockwerk hate-chip rumor. While that rumor turned out to be true, they were a long way from the leads necessary to stop it from production. _

_Carmelita, in the meantime, went back to the job and gave it twice the attention that she gave it the first time. She spent a short time in New York City, training with the American Central Intelligence Agency and a little time with the British Academy of Psychological Criminal Research. The B.A. of P.C.R. was one of the hardest institutions to get into, therefore causing classes to be only slightly larger than a handful of people from all over the world. _

_She got her mind off of Sly Cooper as best as she could, just as Sly put his mind and heart back into Clockwerk rumors and such, so that he could ensure that his future offspring would live a bit more of a carefree life. His child should never have to suffer the fate of his parents or other ancestors who had gone up against, and died against freakish beings like Clockwerk in the past. Carmelita could wait, Clockwerk could not. _

_Sly had never given Carmelita the Engagement Pendant of the Cooper Family. While it had a rumor for giving the Cooper family more than its share of males to pass on the name throughout the ages, Sly never gave it to Carmelita. They never went beyond going steady and enjoying one another's company for an extended period of time. _

_Not every Cooper had all males, either. Often times, the pendant would be stored in the vault after marriage and after a boy or two was born. Many times there were daughters that popped up when the stone was left in the vault, or if it simply wasn't used in the normal traditional act of proposal. Several Cooper Daughters had risen through the ranks to become Master Thieves; there was no gender barrier in any way. _

_The sad truth of the matter was, as far as their relationship went, every time they got a little closer, there was some measure of space or distance that was placed between them. With every dance, they'd go further apart. Then there was the 6 months of laying down their metaphorical guns and simply enjoying one another; once they parted, the distance was immeasurable. They didn't even see one another until the awkward hand to hand combat they shared at the Café in downtown Paris. _

_How strange it was, for them to both play it off like nothing happened. How awkward they both felt and yet they both refused to acknowledge how odd it was, fighting side by side after such a lengthy distance. She never brought up his leaving; he never brought up how foolish he felt for having done it. He wasn't sure what compelled him to do so; he just knew it was something he had to do. _

_Now he knew. This whole thing wound up bringing him closer to defeating Clockwerk once and for all so that his future family wouldn't be decimated. As far as what he'd learned about the Engagement Diamond pendant, now a Cooper family heirloom, he knew that several generations of the family never even took it out of the Family Vault. _

_Some called it 'cursed'. They knew that every time they took it out, Clockwerk showed up to fight, although usually his approaches were a bit more indirect. The simple fact of the matter was, in order to have their family name outlast Clockwerk, some of the more defiant ancestors of the Cooper line flaunted the pendant and called it tradition. The diamond piece wound up becoming infamous for giving to one's betrothed._

_The stone remained in the vault for several generational gaps. It stayed put during the years of one of the more famous Cooper ancestors, who lived as a pirate on the open sea. It stayed in the vault during a Victorian era, and a Male Cooper, second oldest of three, continued the name, with his sisters to teach his own son the ways of the thevious raccoonus. _

_Ultimately the diamond pendant was used as an engagement heirloom again for three more generations but was put back into the family vault a year after Sly was born. His parents were killed before he was old enough to be told about it. What he'd learned of it came from a letter that was kept with the pendant itself, when he finally got into the vault. _

_And there is where it still sits today. Sly's dream state began to form a fresh scripted vision, abandoning the last flashback. This one was a bit more romantic. He was with Carmelita and they were holding one another at some point in their lives. They didn't appear to be any older than they were now; this left him to believe, in the dream, that it was something from the present. _

_The realism of the dream was so powerful, that he actually believed he was there at that moment. Within the realm of the unconscious, all of his inhibitions were gone and he held Carmelita like the mate he always wanted her to become. Their hearts danced and their paws explored affectionately. _

_Sensual kisses were exchanged, with Sly's lips roaming down her jaw, over her neck, passed her collarbone, moving ever lower. For the first time, in this dream, he realized he was holding a moist sponge. His paw brought the sponge up to her shoulder, where he pressed in softly. _

_Warm water ran down over her body, glistening in what was apparently the most vibrant moonlight he'd ever experienced. His tender kisses brought him passed the full curves of swelling fur-covered flesh. With each breath, her busty form heaved slightly. His lips continued downwards, gracing over her firm tummy. _

_A single glistening water droplet slid down over her tummy, coming to rest directly upon his nose. It was such a fragile little dew-drop that refracted the twinkle of the moon in the most fascinating way. Each kiss was beginning to evolve by adding a little nip or suckle at the end, moving passed her belly button. _

_Carmelita's eyes fluttered shut and her paws came to cup the back of his head, in an attempt to gently usher him lower. The excitement was gathering in her body like a knot that needed desperately to be untied, so that she could become completely undone. She all but begged for him. _

_Sly, being ever clever, paused a few inches below her bellybutton. He rested the bottom of his muzzle against her lower tummy, gazing up at her with a devious grin. "What?" She whispered, nearly shaking with anticipation. It was now that Sly came to realize where the sponge water had come from and where they were, as it was the first time he recalled glancing up. _

_He was kneeling, neck deep, in the relaxing waters of a private hot springs, in the middle of a forest clearing. All about them was the heated pool and a wisp of steam that rose above the water's surface. Further back was the soft, moist moss that covered the ground and beyond that, there were the trunks of the massive trees that reached into the sky, providing a privacy fence from the rest of the world. _

_Patches of Ivy covered the trees trunks and some branches. The break in the leafy canopy was positioned just right for the moon to shine upon them like an ethereal spotlight to which they were the actors of the world's most romantic play. _

_Sly's muzzle contorted into a grin. He knew what she wanted him to do, but why rush? He crept around her then stood up behind her, quickly plunging the sponge into the water for a moment before placing it against the nape of her neck. _

_Carmelita shivered involuntarily as the trickle of water ran down her spine, sparkling on the surface of her fur. Sly followed the trace of water with his lips, placing tender kisses against her back, following the trail of water made by the sponge. He then reached his arms around her waist, once he was back upon his knees, behind her. _

_The sponge was brought around her body then lifted slightly, caressing her tummy in its warmth. He brought it back down, going dangerously lower than where his kisses had left off, beneath her tummy, while he nuzzled his face against the small of her back. _

_"This is too perfect," She told him softly. She cooed softly at the sensation of his exploring sponge, only for her to suddenly sink to her knees, so that she was now on his level. She turned about and quickly placed her muzzle upon his and the most liberating kiss began in that moment. _

_Velveteen tongues dueled and danced. Both were skilled in the art of love, regardless of their equal lack of such knowledge. His eyes fluttered shut and he simply embraced her as much as he did with the coveted sensations of pleasure experienced between one another. _

_It was then that he noticed her tongue was a bit coarser than he originally remembered. The kiss lasted several more moments before he realized that the coarseness of her tongue was beginning to bother him. He broke the lip lock and opened his eyes. His heart stopped. The Felox half-breed, Karla Chintzy was in his arms. _

_Sly's heart dropped and his stomach iced over in confusion and disgust. Her paw lifted, sifting through the back of his gray furred hair, forcing his head to lower, directing his gaze down between one another. He could see that Karla's stomach was swollen. She leaned forward and whispered hot breath into his ear. _

_"The fruit of your seed grows stronger with every passing minute, within me," She told him. Her emerald eyes sparkled like the briny sea on the morning of a scarlet sky. "Now, make love to me again, Sly Cooper," She murred softly into his ear. _

_"...No!" Sly's muzzle dropped open, his lower lip quivering and his chest tightening in fear. This dream was so real; was it? He reached down to pinch at his arm and didn't yet wake up. Was this really happening? He couldn't remember. All he knew was the heart wrenching thought of having mated Karla Chintzy. _

_Sly shook his head rapidly. She smiled and licked her lips, adding, "Don't you remember the rapture and ecstasy? Don't you remember swearing your love and fidelity to me?" She asked, lifting her left paw to show him the gleaming golden band. And that's when he saw, around her neck, was a diamond pendant. Was it all true? Sly was trembling with rage, confusion and fear. _

_The disgust he felt in his heart was overwhelming. Was she truly pregnant with his offspring? He didn't want to know the honest answer. Sly tried to back away from her but found that his back was up against the mossy parameter of the hot springs, already. He pushed away from her, his back sliding across the soft green ground. _

_She quickly moved forward, waiting until he'd backed out of the water just enough that she could move up over his body and straddle him. Suddenly his jaw parted and with all his will, he shoved her away, screaming, "ENOUGH!"

* * *

_

**And there he sat**, alone in the cool cell of his temporary chamber. There he sat in a moment of capture, his heart pounding and his paws trembling. His body quaked with anger and disgust, the emotion nearly consuming him. His lower lip quivered and his eyes quickly fluttered open, taking in the dank gloom that surrounded him.

That's when his ears flickered at the sound of a gunshot. It echoed through the vents, seeming to have come from downstairs, somewhere. "C-Carmelita?" The power of his own voice startled him, causing him to sit up on the floor. If only he could figure out what was going on down there. What if she was in trouble?

Another gunshot was heard, followed by silence...

* * *

A/N: _So, should I have Carmelita kill Donovan? Should I have Karla seduce Sly? Tell me what the readers want to see! No name calling on each other, I respect everyone's opinion equally and will always strive to find a compromise within the solution. LET ME KNOW:D_

_Thanks again, for those that tuned me in to the fact that Sly's got female thief ancestors!_

_Will have Chapter6 up, ASAP! Remember to let me know yaw'll's ideas and feedback on the matters at hand!_

_-Kit _


	6. Hot babe? Big guns!

A/N: _LoL, I stole the title of this chapter from the Newspaper title in Sly1, after Carmelita nabs Raleigh, the frog dude. I saw, in that level, you can open one of the safe things and get the ball rolling maneuver from SALLY COOPER, so that confirms it… more Cooper babes. And that, ladies and gents, is what playing the darn series will help with! Over 4 people said to kill Donovan. One person says to keep him around for a while, but we're almost to the next 'slow' chapter. So… As promised, I'm going to compromise. If it was everyone asking all at once for him to die, I'd have started that way, but instead, I'll make a compromise… and not kill him RIGHT away. Not to say there aren't several other super natural gang members out there, working to rebuild one of their favorite pawns… As far as Clockwerk, the hate-chip is now floating around in the wrong paws. This is another 'action-paced chapter', in the theme of the Lambada. Let's just see what happens, shall we! AND away we go! Let's just see how that compromise works out! Weee!

* * *

_

Chapter 6: "Hot woman with big guns"

**Another gunshot ripped through the void**; it crossed the room and slammed into the wall, just a few inches from the granular floor tiles. Carmelita growled softly, her fur becoming ruffled. Leading up until now, she had pulled the trigger to blow a hole through his neck and before she realized what had happened, he'd sunk into the shadow beneath her feet. Suddenly, her body lifted upwards; Donovan threw her across the room.

The Vixen was smart enough to land on one of the tables, getting another shot off, but now he was getting away and for that, _he would pay_. She hopped back across the table, lifting both pistols and opening fire once again. Her nimble footed maneuvering brought her across the desktops, safely above where explosives had been set by tripwires that connected each desk, near the flooring.

He'd already disappeared from the office and into the stairwell. Carmelita leapt off the final desk, scurrying out of the office, in hot pursuit. She dashed into the stairs, adjacent to the elevator, and took each step two at a time. There was no time to lose. She still had plenty of ammunition, after all.

Once Inspector Fox got to the third floor, she stopped in front of the door, took a moment of recess from the chase then stepped through, into the hallway, pausing once more to use her ears. Absolute silence. The suspended cop glanced about herself, furtively, then she began to proceed further into the room.

Her eyes dropped to the floor and she tilted her head, noting the plush, thick carpet here. She was on the opposite side of the third story office building where she'd come in through the vent earlier. This was different. The posh carpeting swallowed her feet with every step, as the vixen ventured further out upon it.

She crept through it. The forest of carpet was nearly ankle high and the sound was practically loud enough to break the silence from being absolute. Every step mimicked the sound of gritty ashes, strewn across gently textured rice paper. Each offered footfall was a brush of the most subtle fabric against the firm, confident steps of a sure-minded Vixen.

"I know you're here," She mused thoughtfully. Even her gracefully worded tones shattered the silence. A moment passed and the quiet returned, stifling all that her ears could perceive. The carpet wasn't conducive to acoustics, making it hard to hear where her prey could be stalking.

The shine of her semi-automatic pistols reflected the recessed lightning above her; the pointed ears upon Carmelita's head began to lower, flattening against those dark azure locks of her hair. Soft amber eyes narrowed to slits, gazing about herself before pressing on slowly. He was here; he was setting some sort of trap. She knew it.

"I won't fall into your ambush, Donovan Loupe," Carmelita warned to the empty air around her. She grumbled in continuation, "Canis Lupus, I'm going to put you down, I don't even have room in _my_ jail cell for _you_. Hmph, Loupé, Lupus, I get it… Your last name is 'wolf'. That's _real _clever."

"No, you fool," Came his aloof voice, seemingly from out of nowhere. "It's pronounced 'loop'. It's a magnifying reticule used for seeing jewels up close. I'm a jeweler, you twit."

Carmelita smiled to herself. Her tactic worked; he revealed his very presence in the room. She knew she hadn't been alone; proving her hunch to be correct was important as she could keep her guard up. Her ears rose, trying to pinpoint where his voice came from. She lifted her left pistol and shot out one of the recessed lighting tracts in the ceiling. The room dimmed considerably and she narrowed her eyes, looking about herself.

Her right paw lifted, shooting out the lighting on the other side of the corridor. She was nearly cast into pitch black now, with the only illumination pouring in from further down the hall. The vixen's eyes were squinted shut; she knew she needed for her eyes to adjust.

"And what is the point of such, little fool?" Came the voice. She grinned inwardly, hearing the direction from which Donovan spoke. Her eyes snapped open, and there he stood, by the wall.

"No lighting means one thing: no shadows are being cast," She mused, pointing her guns in his direction, opening fire. The bullets ripped from the muzzle, slamming into the wall, following him as he ran down the vestibule, towards the light at the end of the hallway. He had quite a lead and, despite his head start, she was already catching up.

"This atrium isn't large enough for the both of us. Only one of us will walk out of this vestibule," He called back in reply, heading towards the larger reception area. She followed him through the gloomy antechamber, firing in his departing direction. Anticipating each gunshot, she blinked each time she pulled the trigger, so the gun flash didn't compromise her dilated vision.

The pistols were deafening, being used indoors. By the time they reached the next room, which was well illuminated, her ears were ringing. Carmelita crept out into the room, staying cautious. Shadows made no sound; her eyes were the important things. Out of the corner of her gaze, she noticed movement and quickly rolled away from it.

Her shadow had begun to grow longer and she was quick to stay away from it. Quite suddenly, two tendrils reached up from the abyss of nothingness; from beneath doors and tables throughout the large room that looked like a recreational conference area or some sort of multipurpose ballroom. She avoided them by jumping up, upon the nearest table. If she could get back into a room that was dark or even brightly illuminated and empty of objects, she could lie on the floor and avoid the shadows. This was going to be difficult, to say the least.

At the end of the room, she spotted Donovan and quickly ripped off two shots, one from each weapon. He brought the sinister arms backwards, as if to use them as a protective shield. The further the bullets had to travel through the tar-like substance, the slower their velocity became. Finally they ripped through the other end of the shadow and he lifted his palm to catch them as if they were but mere stones.

Both caps were dropped to the carpet and a grin tugged at the right corner of his muzzle. "Ready to tango, foxy lady?"

"Only if you let me lead," She replied with a smirk. "I plan to step all over your toes," She promised with a hint of challenge, before leaping off the table and tearing through the duel pistol magazines…

* * *

**Sly's head ached. His body was ever alert and yet** his mind and joints ached. The raccoon rubbed at his left wrist, favoring it for a moment in the palm of his right paw before switching his right wrist to his left paw. He reproached the cell bars, shaking his head slowly. This was getting him nowhere. If he could get Karla back in here, he could some how persuade her to bring him out of the cell by offering charm. It's what she wanted, after all. He could easily use it to escape. 

To his surprise, there were subdued footsteps coming from the far end of the hallway. The squeak of a door being opened could be heard then the resounding steps; but now, they were no longer muffled. Solid clicks of confident footfalls filled Sly's ears. He readied himself for anything.

Suddenly, his body betrayed him. He felt his knees going weak and his lower lip was beginning to tremble. It was nothing like he'd ever felt before. His heart began to pound and yet, all he was able to do was question himself. The bars seemed to incandesce, bathing his cell in their own measure of inner illumination. Almost fearfully, Sly placed his paws upon the metallic cylinders which brightened right there in his palms.

There was no heat, the metal remained cool, making him wonder if this was some sort of mental experience like vertigo or a trick. Light, as Bentley might say, was nothing more than rapidly moving molecules. The faster they moved, the more light was generated, but rapid movement and microscopic friction, and all that stuff, created heat. In something as simple as metal, these bars should have been getting warm, if not hot.

The first thing Sly could see, from the left, was a well polished pair of shoes. His knees gave out on him and the Raccoon sunk to a kneeling position, against his own will.

"Procyon Lotor," said the man in a musically soft, baritone voice. It was soothing and pure of tone. Just the simple words spoken put Sly's heart at ease, despite the confusion he was experiencing. It continued, "Your presence has fulfilled its usefulness. However, I respect Karla's wish to spare your life. You are now her responsibility. If you cause me trouble, I've made it clear that she will receive punishment in your stead. Once gone, your life will be forfeit. You are now a symbiant being. Don't cause any trouble or you both die."

Sly waited until his breath was drawn in again, as he didn't have control of his own body at the moment; it was like being petrified. He tried to open his mouth to speak but nothing happened. He tried to clinch his fists but nothing happened. His eyes were simply affixed to the vision of Bishonen perfection. The youthful looking Lion, whose mane framed his face in such a way that he looked… _beautiful_, gave a Cheshire smile and it caused Sly's heart to skip a beat.

Sly couldn't even ask who he was. The almost-boyish featured, yet otherworldly beast knelt to Sly's level, upon one knee, resting his arms across one another, atop of that singular raised knee. His gaze met with Sly's own stare and the Raccoon found that he couldn't do a single thing. The lion arched his back, leaning forward, so that his nose was only inches from Sly's own snout.

"Right now," Said the king of all creatures, "Your mind is screaming. You're on the brink of an emotional breakdown. Even though your emotions are clear, you can think of nothing else but how surprised you are that all you can do is whatever I tell you."

Sly simply blinked. "Oh!" Exclaimed the incredibly beautiful lion. His delicate visage was tilted to the side and his grin melted into a genuine smile. "You have incredible willpower. I've not seen a simple mortal man blink at me in decades. I'm impressed. So be it." To his words, Sly replied once more with a blink. He begged for his body to react but to his shock and dismay, nothing happened.

"Lay upon your stomach for me, Sly Cooper," The lion told him, through the glowing bars. The affluent dressed, magnificent beast seemed to have an aura that Sly could have sworn was plainly visible. Sly wanted to gasp but was unable, finding his body move to the floor, flat upon the cool concrete. His muzzle slipped through the bars and his left cheek lay upon the tip of those polished shoes. He felt disgust deep down in his chest, where his real intentions burned to be free.

"You may simply call me, SIRE. Everyone else refers to me that way, in third person." The beast reached through the bars, scritching the trembling raccoon behind his right ear for a moment. "The immense power of your will impresses me. Most people flop over like fish when I demand for them to lie down. Most can't blink either. I'm very impressed."

The feelings of disgust begin to mutate into anger and loathing. Sly retreated into his mind. This was the most insulting moment of his present life. His eyes never shut but his mind was now returning to that of his father's story telling and the days of youth. He'd just spent the last twenty minutes on the older man's knee, listening to tales of the Thevious Raccoonus.

The door was kicked in. A tiny bullfrog grew into a massive rotund size, once he was in through the door. He landed on the kitchen table, flattening it. Behind him, another guy rushed in, and more beyond. Sly used to feel helpless and useless at times he thought back on that moment. He'd done well to avenge his family but sometimes he just felt upset by the simple thought. Tonight was different. He felt anger. His vengeance was not fulfilled as he once thought.

Someone behind Clockwerk had ordered this and they had to pay. His rage coursed through his body, his head jerked up and his paws relocked around the bars and his muzzle parted, ready to shout but the hallway on the other side of the bars was empty. The bars no longer had their glowing luster. He was alone.

Or was he?

Standing up, he brushed himself off, then whirled around only to gasp. Karla was sitting on the bench at the back of his cell. Those widened black pupils shrunk and the raccoon's tail fluffed up in disgust. "Get out of my cell unless your intent is to release me."

"Mm, I'll show _you_ release," She replied playfully, shaking her head slowly and adding, "I'm not here to turn you loose unless it's on my body; that's beside the point. I'm here to tell you I'm impressed at your will power. If you've the ability to blink at him and you had the composure to keep from throwing your body at him, when he asked you to lie down, my chances of seducing you are next to impossible."

"You can say that again," Sly chuckled. The gray-furred raccoon folded his arms across his chest, looking at her as if he didn't already know she just saw him laying on the shoe of some man. He acted as if he wasn't embarrassed in the least, regardless of how awkward he felt.

"You don't understand, Monsieur Cooper," she said, almost urgently. "Most people stay almost comatose after a visit from him. They stay that way until they go catatonic or starve to death or wake up days later with their eyes nearly dried out. As soon as he shut the door behind himself, you screamed in anguish. Don't think he didn't hear it upon his departure. He's undoubtedly impressed as well."

"Well gee," Sly grunted, reaching one arm over his shoulder to playfully pat himself on the back. "Aren't I proud of myself?"

"You should be," Karla snapped. "I'm only able to talk to him because he wills me to conversation. He eases up on his majestic potency, dims his aura and allows me to be released from his powerful ability of sheer presence. He's the only man I know who's far more attractive than you, Sly."

"Then what's your attraction in me all about?" Sly quipped. "Why not chase after his tail?"

"He's a supernatural. I've wanted one thing since playing with handmade dolls as a child," Karla explained with a slight sigh. "To enjoy the simplicities of mothering. I understand that some mothers in the world struggle alone. The finances, the emotional stress, the need to need when they're over-needed; I just wanted the stereotypical happiness of mothering like in a story book. If you bring me that diamond, I will bare your children for you, Sly Cooper. You'll restore your family bloodline. We'll repopulate the world with Cooper Children."

"I've got a prospective mother who will teach my children left from right, black from white and right from wrong," Sly explained. "With her as their mother, they'll have no choice but to learn how to be the sneakiest of the sneaky. Besides, as much as I like older women, I don't really care for the ones old enough to be my great grand mother's great, great grandmother," Cooper chuckled in mockery of the fact that she claimed to be hundreds of years old.

"Why, Sly Cooper," Chintzy giggled in reply, "I thought you were an open-minded man. What, with your disregard for the law but adoration for a cop, I'd have thought you'd be the kind who was willing to try anything."

"You're hot," Sly admitted while refolding his arms, "But you're not her; there's no history and you're no challenge. I could have said all the right words and had you wrapped around my paw if I wanted; you're practically throwing yourself at me," the raccoon noted. Karla's response was one of being insulted.

"Wh- How _dare_ you!" She exclaimed. Karla stood up and drew her paw back. Sly flipped his right paw outwards, blocking her attempt at slapping his face. She almost blushed in reply. His strong grip wrapped around her wrist sent Goosebumps down her spine. "You have no power over me," She promised him.

"You're not as good of a liar as I thought," Sly said, putting his other paw on her shoulder and giving her a polite shove. Regardless of the fact that she was superior in the art of combat, he never physically mishandled a female. There was no honor in that.

"I hate you," She told him with an almost heartbreaking sob. "A woman's best friend and worst enemy is her heart. You don't remember me, but I remember you," She said, leaning to kiss his cheek softly before disappearing. Her teleportation brought her onto the other side of the jail cell bars. She walked away, pausing only to glance over her shoulder at him for a moment. "I can't do as I please while I work for _him_. The Sire is too strong. I'm only lucky he's given me your life. If you had the power to free me of him, I'd even go so far as to leave you alone. But that's impossible." And with that, she disappeared again, teleporting out of the room.

Sly stood there a moment, rubbing his eyes before turning back to his jail bench. "Carmelita. I want Carmelita. Karla's hot and means well, but I don't love her," he reminded himself. "Why do I always go after the one that's a _challenge_?" He couldn't help but chuckle. He knew who he loved. It wasn't Karla Chintzy.

* * *

**The Sire pushed open the double doors** to the laboratory. Inside, there was a floating wheelchair-like object, hovering near a desk. On the far end of the room, massive wings hung from the wall. On the opposite side of the room, half of the hulking frame of Clockwerk was under construction. 

"What, my dear boy, are you working on?" Asked the nearly effeminate lion. A gentle paw was placed upon the genius' shoulder. The scientist's over-powered brain was the only mind that wasn't affected by Sire's power. The brilliant scientist crossed his left leg over his right knee, leaning back into the hovering chair, a comfortable contraption, indeed.

"I've finished rebuilding the processing network where the Hate Chip directly powers his mental center," Came the reply. One thing about The Sire's scientist, he was intelligent enough to explain things to people around him so that anyone could understand him, regardless of who was his audience. His patience was equally legendary. "The last version of Clockwerk was flawed," Explained the science guru.

"Explain his flaw, would you?" Sire asked.

"He was fallible," Said the genius, "Because he only knew revenge. That's why he had me build his mind and body several hundred years ago. He wanted to be closer to perfection. In the end, I gave him the perfect body but not the perfect mind in which to protect himself. Truth and love always overcomes hatred, even if it doesn't happen right away. He never saw truth as something able to destroy him; he believed in power alone."

"Your proposed solution?" asked the gentle-faced feline. Soft cobalt eyes seemed to shimmer but his powers _never_ worked on the scientist. Mind over matter was just that to a man of mind over myth. The scientist had fashioned a chip to fit his frontal lobe that made it so he was protected from the powers of his peers.

The scientist, looking no older than 30, stole a glance at his long-time friend. "I'm rebuilding Clockwerk as he was, but within his preserved brain, I'm adding the ability to use actual, mathematical _logic_." The inventor and engineer had already managed to learn how to deactivate his aging gene. He was just as fragile of a man as any other if he was fighting paw to paw, but the scholarly skunk learned how to engineer his body before the marvel of modern medicine.

His ability to heal mortal wounds within minutes was incredible and his body never aged or grew old. His flesh and fur always seemed so very young and healthy. The Sire knew his name, but he didn't care to know the Sire's name.

The powerful and yet beautiful visage of the lion turned his back on the long-time scientific friend. "Steven," The feline nearly whispered.

"Yes?" The skunk said off-handedly as if he was hardly paying attention to anything other than what he was doing.

"You're truly sure about this diamond's properties? We've chased it for a long time. I just need your reaffirmation," The lion mused.

"It will work. Just have… what the religious people have. You know… Faith," Said Steven. The Skunk returned to his work, beginning to ignore the lion. It was the Sire's one pet peeve. He had the ability to command the attention of the whole world's population if he truly wished it and yet he couldn't stand it when one person had the ability to simply ignore his very existence.

* * *

**Sire moved through the hallway**, ignoring the gunshots on the other side of the wall. '_Donovan will handle that one_,' he thought to himself. The doors at the end of the hallway were brushed apart and he approached the cell in the middle of the hall, turning to face Sly. 

Cooper had stood up to see who was coming just in time to be forced to the ground by The Sire's simple suggestion. Sly wanted only to ball his fists up and shout in protest but he was forced to the floor and his will was gone. His eyes shut and he pushed his mind anywhere but here; it was incredibly difficult, however.

"Where is the pendant? I ask you to speak for me, Mister Sly Cooper." His musical voice was nearly intoxicating. He was so beautiful and in Sly's eyes, he was surrounded by an ethereal aura. Sly's trembling voice was offered in reply directly after the question.

"The remains of my Family's Vault," He told the Lion.

"Such a shame," Sire mused softly. "Doctor M. was just as great of a failure as Clockwerk proved to be. Your family had no right stealing that diamond from Clockwerk, in the first place. We should have never involved your family," He explained with a slow shake of his head. "Had they not meddled in our plans, they'd have had a long, prosperous lineage with no problems. Their interference is not your fault, however, my dear boy."

Sly's pupils dilated. The Cooper curse of fighting Clockwerk truly _was_ the fault of this man. He listened in horrid detail as The Sire continued, "I had no intention of ordering the death of your immediate family members. It was the last straw when Clockwerk couldn't get the location of your vault out of that fellow, McSweeny. When we killed your father and family members, we were hoping that the book we found would do one of two things: Tell us where your vault was hidden, or bring another Cooper out of hiding to ask them. McSweeny told us, in order to keep us from killing you. Doctor M set up shop and became a failure. Later, I hear McSweeny told you, so that you could stop Doctor M… stop _me_ from obtaining what's rightfully _mine_."

Sly felt, for the first time, true rage overtake his heart and soul. His mind, for the first time that he could remember, was clouded and his judgment abandoned him. There was despair and hurt in the past. There was anger and pure rage, now. Sly's fingertips fluttered, slowly drawing inwards.

The Sire continued his sadistic banter and the more he spoke, the more Sly grew angry. The raccoon never experienced such animosity before. Even when he hunted down the murderers of his family, he kept a calm, cool mind so as not to make a mistake by acting on clouded judgment. How he felt right now was completely different. His fingers continued to curl until he was literally laying face down, held up by his knuckles.

The longer The Sire's sparkling repartee continued, the angrier Sly grew until the rage consumed him, deep down inside. Just the mere presence of the Bishonen Lion was enough to fuel the ire that boiled in the pit of Sly's gut. He was _kneeling_ before the man who boisterously admitted to causing his family grief, strife and pain for generations. This man was solely responsible, as the ultimate thief, for robbing Sly of his childhood.

Much to the lion's surprise, Sly pushed upwards on his knuckles until his elbows locked. Struggling against the willpower-suppressing abilities, the raccoon's mind was gone and he was literally at the quintessence of a stifled frenzy. The rage that filled the youthful Sly Cooper was enough to nearly poison the young man's mind; it was powerful enough for him to rise up, slowly, to his knees now.

"My, my. That's certainly never happened," Sire mused in an almost delighted voice. "If I were to release you right now, I'm sure those bars would not hold you back. I'm sure you're so far beyond enraged that you can't even hear a word I'm telling you, boy."

Sly continued to rise up until he was standing. His eyes burned with the pure desire for revenge. A slow trickle of drool hung from his muzzle and his usually calm gaze seemed clouded over; milky like cataracts. His right paw lifted, sliding between the bars, reaching out for The Lion's throat. His paws quavered violently, acting through his subconscious. His body no longer had a will to submit to The Sire; he was acting off of pure instinctual frenzy.

"Now, now. Place your paw in your mouth, boy." Sire gave the most brilliant smile. His teeth were the color of pearl, like the season's first snow fall. His eyes glistened like the reflection of the moon in the calmest sea.

Sly only saw red. His paw lunged forward and his body was pressed up against the bars, snatching the front of the Lion's shirt. He struggled to fight the Lion's powers and the adrenaline in his body was causing his fur to stand on end and for the raccoon's dexterous digits to tremble with rage. Before the Sire could see it coming, his own body was drawn forward, slamming into the bars, so that he was eye to eye with Cooper.

"Quite… impressive, boy," The lion whispered in reply. "I've seen men who couldn't even stand up when I forced them to watch my people tear apart their wife and children. You've impressed me and proven your point."

In reply to the calmly spoken words, Sly hissed a guttural noise that sounded something like, "Die." Before Sly could comprehend what happened next, the Lion disappeared from his grasp. Sire reappeared on the other end of the hallway, standing besides Karla Chintzy.

"You told me that I'm responsible for his actions and behavior," She mused. "But you antagonizing him was not part of the deal," She explained in a respectful voice. "I would have pulled you out of his grasp earlier but up until Monsieur Cooper took you by surprise just now, your power was in full effect and I didn't have the willpower to rush to your aid, My Liege."

Sire slowly shook his head with a somewhat awkward sounding chuckle. "That would have been an ironic death by means of pure satire; unable to receive aid because of my own powers that were evolved to be my greatest weapon and defense."

"Indeed, Master. I'll handle him. Go, change your shirt; it's ripped," She replied, offering him a polite smile. Sire nodded slowly then left the room, tugging at the bottom of his garment, straightening the wrinkles in his clothing that were caused from Sly.

Once gone, she breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the majestic presence fade and her true willpower return. She rushed towards the bars, seeing Sly pulling on two of them with his paws. To her surprise and complete dismay, he'd already managed to bend the solid iron about two centimeters apart.

"SLY! He's GONE!" She shouted. Her body disappeared and reappeared inside the cell with him, wrapping her paws around his waist and trying to pry him away from the metal poles that were slightly less than straight now.

Sly lost his balance and tumbled to the floor, landing on his knuckles. His breathing was a labored panting; his heart was beating wildly. Such anger was completely uncharacteristic of him. Never one for rage, his mind returned and the adrenaline began to recede. His energy ebbed away, like sand trickling through an hour glass. His stomach iced over and his chest tightened up. His body ached from stressing his muscles and he suddenly felt weak. The raccoon rolled over onto his back, panting softly.

"You're tense; want a massage?" She asked.

"Go away," Sly whispered between each stressed breath. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying not to move. His body was still quivering from the after-effects of the over stimulated tightening of his muscles.

"You can probably bench-press your hippo friend, after that physical workout," She chuckled softly. The half-breed Felox came to sit besides him, offering the softest smile.

"What do you want? I said go away," Sly replied, but with an air of defeat in his voice. He should have been able to bend those bars, grab the lion and literally pull Sire's body into pieces with nothing more than his bare paws, but he had to give his all just to grab the lion's shirt and that was in an attempt to reach for the man's throat.

"You're the only person I've ever seen stand up to him," She explained. "You have the ability to kill him; we have to help each other. If I'm going to get out from under his powers, I need to make sure you're there to rip him apart."

"He made me hurt in a way no one's ever hurt me before," Sly explained, looking rather ill. "I can't let myself get that mad without some way to release it; I feel awful."

"It'll pass," She said with a slight grin tugging at the corner of her muzzle. "I've seen drug junkies go through the same thing if they don't get their fix. The chemical in your blood is rushing out of your system. It's making you feel sick; it'll pass."

Suddenly, Sly rolled away from her and clinched his eyes shut. His stomach emptied and hot bile rushed up his esophagus, racing to the floor. The stomach acids burned at the back of his throat but shortly afterwards, the feeling of nausea began to pass, finally.

"I'll be back later. You're my key to get rid of The Sire. I was wrong, you're quite an impressive man," She said, patting his shoulder before disappearing from the cell and reappearing on the other side of the bars. She stood there for a moment, offering a longing gaze before leaving.

Sly sat up, rubbing his muzzle against the backside of his shirt sleeve. He shook his head hard, left to right, trying to shake off the effects of dizziness. Crawling up onto the jail-cell bench, the raccoon pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs, sitting in the fetal position while his body went through the end stages of a sudden chemical downer. The adrenaline was gone, the rush was over. His teeth began to chatter for just a moment.

There was a huge difference between having a typical rush of a natural high, and having every fiber of one's being completely saturated with a dose of adrenaline. If he wasn't fighting Sire's powers, he was pretty sure he would have been able to take even Murray in an arm wrestling match, without breaking a sweat.

* * *

**Carmelita was at her best**, right now. At the top of her game, everything felt clear and she knew she was in her element. Another shadowy limb reached out at her. She jumped forward, tucking her knees to her stomach and forcing her weight so that her body rotated into a somersault. The tendril of shade passed beneath her, and her legs extended, landing firmly upon her feet. 

The vixen broke into a sprint, drawing her pistols forwards, shooting two more rounds at Donovan. Blood ran down from the wound on his shoulder, leaving those fresh, crimson droplets in the carpet. She'd followed the path throughout the third floor, knowing he was going to run out of steam before long. The other wound in his paw was no better, leaving her that much more of a sanguine trail to follow.

An arm of obtenbration gloom reached out from behind the fox and wrapped around her waist, throwing her across the room at the nearest wall. She flipped her body over, mid air, so that her feet touched the wall. She pushed off of it, after absorbing the shock in her legs as if landing from a hard fall, only her landing was against a vertical bulkhead.

Bounding off the wall, Carmelita dashed forward, firing two more shots into a column, up ahead of the fleeing timber wolf. The wooden pillar snapped and an ornamental archway collapsed, causing two pieces of curved wood to fall, catching Donovan across his face. The wolf fell to the floor with a grunt of shock.

Carmelita approached him slowly, pointing the guns in his face. Suddenly, the shadow tendrils threw two potted plants at her from either direction. She crossed her arms, firing her right gun to the left, and her left gun to the right, shattering both pots. Her guns clicked empty, the slide ejected and stayed in the cock-back position.

The Inspector growled softly, fur bristling on the back of her neck. She leveled the guns at him, regardless to the fact that she lacked ammunition. The muzzles of each weapon touched Donovan's cheek and her eyes narrowed in disgust.

"Clever criminal," She muttered.

"Why thank you, my dear," Loupe replied with a grin. "You're quite a warrior woman, aren't you?" She offered no reply. He added, "Yes, the Valkyrie Vixen has outfoxed me, tonight. But that won't happen in the future, doll."

"If there _is_ a future," Carmelita snapped, "I'll bring more bullets."

"Now that you've earned my respect, I'm beginning to realize that you're a rather attractive young lady," Donovan told her in a pleasant tone.

"Now that you're beaten? You like a dominative women?" Carmelita chided playfully, panting softly, after such a thorough run of the building.

"Oh it will be so interesting to see you face The Sire," Donovan chuckled in reply. The wolf shook his head slowly. Carmelita noticed he had a trickle of blood running down over his brow, from where he'd connected with the piece of wood that she'd caused him to run into. "I can see it now, little girl. He'll smile, tell you to put your guns to your head and pull the trigger. I hope he makes Sly Cooper watch you do it to yourself."

"Your ceaseless, annoying… prattle is starting to piss me off," She told him, followed by, "So shut up."

"Shut me up," Donovan chuckled. "What're you going to do about it? You're out of bullets, remember?" He teased in reply. Without a second thought in the matter, Carmelita raised her right paw and brought the pistol across his face, whipping him with it. The force of impact was so great, it immediately rendered Donovan unconscious.

"No problem," She muttered in a terse rebuttal, adding, "Criminal," as if the word was a pure insult. She placed both pistols against his head and pulled the trigger. There was a sharp, crisp snap. The action was understood but the lack of ammunition made it more of an empty threat. "You're lucky I don't have handcuffs on me. I need to finish you off before you cause me more trouble later."

She stood up, putting both guns into the front of her pants, then frowned. She still had to find Sly. A paw went to her ear and she exclaimed aloud, "Bentley!"

Over the radio, the startled turtle seemed to have jumped out of his own shell. "Gah! Buh, uhm… _What_? I've not located Sly; wherever they have him, he's not sitting in front of a security camera. Their surveillance equipment doesn't show every corner of the building's interior. Most likely, there are blind spots on purpose."

"I can't be far," She muttered in reply, over the communication's patch. "I need more bullets before he wakes up," She said, trailing off. A soft noise behind her grabbed the femme fatale's attention. She turned about, to see Donovan sitting up. He quickly raised his paws and thick tendrils of shade began to rise from beneath her.

Before he could react, she pulled a pistol out of the front of her pants and struck him across the side of his head with such power that he dropped back to the ground. A scarlet trickle of garnet-hued liquid ran down the side of his head followed by another, thicker glob of rich, dark vitae. His skull was cracked. She narrowed her eyes, watching the expression of his body. He went completely limp for the time being. "Never mind," She added. "Riga mortis will be setting in soon." Before Inspector Fox could so much as reflect on what just transpired, she turned and headed out of the room. "Time to find Cooper."

* * *

A/N: _I always give the fans/readers what they want :) Someone asked to keep Donovan alive for a while; his powers interest her. So I did for a while! I kept him alive for 13 more pages:D Since the rest of you gave a thumbs up – roman style cry for death, I made sure he didn't see the beginning of Chapter 7. Are you guys ready for Carmelita and Sly to see each other again? What will happen? Sparks flying or another bout with awkward? How about a little of both! It's time to learn what (may have) happened after they got together at the end of Sly3… and why they're not happily planning what color napkins they want at their marriage… Let's just look and see the history there… And let's just see how Karla, Steven, Sire and Clockwerk play into this, hmm? And what about Bentley and Penelope? We shall see… Remember, the main character of this story is Carmelita Montoya Fox. It's her tale. And if she doesn't hurry, it's going to be Sly's tail! _

_-Kit_


	7. Myriad Of Pain!

A/N: _I got a very interesting question from one of my reviewers; I thought I'd take a quick minute to give a very, very loose interpretation of what Riga Mortis is… Riga Mortis is what your body goes through after you've been dead for like, half an hour, to forty-five minutes (usually). If there is something in your hand, it's locked in a death grip. Your body goes so rigid, that you could put a dead man in Riga mortis, across two separated chairs, stand on his gut and it would be solid. _

_An hour or two after that, the body loosens up completely. Now it's just... flimsy. Decomposition takes over, bones get brittle, and you're just a rag doll... that's Post-RigaMotis. Dig:)_

_Thanks for the question :) Now… It's time for the slightly more relaxed chapter (or is it?). Let's get some questions answered shall we?

* * *

_

Chapter 7: _Myriad of Pain_!

**Carmelita kicked open the door** of the hallway that lead to Sly's cell. She paused in front of the bars, folding her arms across her chest and simply offered a grin. "Did you find him?" Called Bentley over her earpiece.

She whispered in reply, which caused Sly to glance up. "Yeah, I found him all right." She then raised the volume of her voice, addressing Sly, "So. I found you right where you belong, Cooper. Behind bars. In a bank, no less. How ironic."

"We've got a few things left unresolved," Sly said, shaking his head slowly. "I had a little time to think about it, while I was in here."

"Unresolved? Is that what you're calling it?" She said, her expression turning into a sour moue of disgust. "I'm only here because you're my bust. I don't care what you've been cleared of. I didn't say anything back in the Café, but you had no right to just _leave _me like that, Ringtail." Her words shifted topic from the café to the way he simply disappeared from her home, one night.

"Carmelita, please," Sly said, running his fingers back through his hair. He gave a playful grin, still pushing off the strange feelings he'd just gone through less than half an hour prior. "Let's get out of here. If you let me out, I'll stop by the Clockwerk Lab, steal some crucial parts and break everything else; we'll run for it and everything will be like it was when we were happy together."

"Bullcrap," She muttered. "You left me in the middle of the night to return to your thieving ways. You're a criminal; you'll always _be_ a criminal Sly Cooper. I don't know _what_ I saw in you. Whatever it _was_, it's gone now."

"Carmelita," Sly said, slipping off the bench and approaching the bars that separated them. He placed his paws on the metallic cylinders and simply gazed into her eyes. "I got a letter one day that told me that I wasn't safe and my future family was just as at-risk as my parents were."

"You think someone would attack a cop?" She snorted in disgust, turning away from him. It hurt to look into his eyes. She missed him too much but she was against giving in to his charm, let alone her over-emotional personal feelings.

"Listen to me," Sly said, tilting his head. "They're rebuilding Clockwerk. I came out of retirement to take care of some unfinished business. I know you don't understand but it's something I had to do, as a man; as a Cooper Male."

"You're right," She said, glancing over her shoulder. She watched him out of the corner of her eyes, seeming to stare off down the hall to the left. "I don't understand. I love you, Sly Cooper. Don't you realize that? What does it take for you to comprehend," She paused then corrected herself, "…to _appreciate_ that? You men are all alike, I swear it."

"And you think I don't?" Sly inquired in a thoughtful voice.

"Then say it," She said, turning to face him.

"Say what?" Sly asked in reply.

"See what I mean!" She exclaimed with an incredulous air. "You stay here, Ringtail. I'm going to go and find the electronic release mechanism."

"Don't you just need a key or two?" Sly asked. It seemed like everything needed a key in the past. It usually required lifting the keys off of burley guards, at that.

"I know my jail cells, Cooper," She snapped. "I can tell you the make and models of brand name jail cell construction makers. I can tell you about the base model and the flagship model of Trident Laser Bar Inc. because I have their catalogue," She explained, heading down the hallway, opposite of the way she came. "Be back soon. You won't have to worry about your Wolf friend, anymore. Later, Thievious Doofus."

Sly blinked, watching her leave. "That was unexpected," he mused aloud.

"Wasn't it now?" A voice called from behind him. Sly whirled around to see Karla standing about two meters behind him. "Surprised, Monsieur Cooper?" She added with a grin.

"Yeah, so… Not really," Replied the raccoon with a curt chuckle. "Why are you women so hard to explain things to? All I wanted was for her to understand that I had things to take care of, before I settle down. By the way, do you think this is worth something?" He asked, holding up a gold necklace.

"How did you get that off The Sire? I've never seen him without it!" She gasped in shock.

"I must have slipped it off his neck when I went for his shirt," Sly replied with a slight shrug. "I wasn't even in my right mind. I hardly remember what happened, I was so upset. But I'm not a _trained_ thief, I'm a **_born_** thief. It just… happened. I couldn't help it, apparently."

"You're better than I realized," replied the half-breed feline vixen. "That pendant usually rests under his fur, so there's a chance he didn't even realize it was missing when he changed his shirt; he'd have stormed back down here by now," She noted in wonder. "You'd better hope he doesn't find out."

"What's it for?" Sly asked, glancing down at the gold necklace. He pondered the possibilities but an assumption would be hard when he didn't even know the lion on a personal level.

"No one knows," Karla said. "He used Clockwerk to get it from someone, right around the time he and I first met, in London."

"You're British?" Sly balked. "I can only imagine you don't care for the French, being that you're a billion years old and lived through all our skirmishes with you guys."

"And I thought that I had a perfectly deceiving French accent and a perfectly deceiving Czech dialect, as well," She pouted playfully. "Yes, I'm English. I was born as Karla Anne, the fourth great granddaughter of Anne Boleyn. Queen Elizabeth the First was _not_ my third great grandmother. Anne Boleyn had another daughter after her assumable death, then she was cursed by the King of Spain, through the Roman Catholic Pope, so that we couldn't spawn children ever again. People thought Henry the Eighth of England hung her off of the London Bridge for either adultery or for not baring him a son, but the truth was, he hung her for being a Supernatural." She then gave a shrug, "I guess it didn't pass on to Elizabeth."

Sly stared at her for a moment, wondering if he should mention that he thought of her as condescending. "Early-to-mid 1500's, right. This makes you born right around the late 1600's, maybe early 1700's. So, why didn't the truth get out about Boleyn?" Sly wondered out loud.

"The thought of him marrying a witch makes him look like an idiot, especially several hundred years after the Inquisition supposedly wiped out every last Supernatural being out there. He had a backwards way of thinking," Karla explained. "We renamed the family to Chintzy for his chintzy attempt at killing my fourth Great Grandmother. She did die, later, however."

"And how old do you think this guy, Sire is?" Sly asked, twirling the necklace on his index finger.

"He knew Charlemagne," She replied flatly. "Is that old enough for you?"

Sly raised his brows. "That's pretty old. Charlemagne the Frank lived in the late 700's. You _do_ realize that I don't believe _either_ of you, right?" Cooper offered a polite smile.

"I see you know your history," She said with a playful grin.

"I'm French. We learned that in the schooling provided by the orphanage," Sly said with snappy, upbeat voice. His anger was gone. He was calm, cool and collected, again. "Besides, you really learn a lot about History when you spend as much time as I do in swank museums."

"She won't be able to free you," Karla said, glancing at her tacky red-lacquered nails, which she curled into her palm. Cooper smirked at her sudden change of topic.

Sly gave a casual sort of lopsided grin and with a hint of sarcasm, he playfully mused, "_She_ won't be able to come here without being killed. _She_ won't be able to kill Donovan; _she_ won't be able to free Sly Cooper. Did I leave anything out?"

"_She_ was right, it's electronic," Karla remarked. "_She_'s no hacker, though. It would take someone with a natural talent for computer hacking to figure out the code to the computer controlled lock."

"_She_'ll figure something out," Sly said.

Karla shook her head. She glanced left to right then giggled with glee, telling Sly, "You have an awful lot of stock in that 'faith' of yours. Considering _she_'s never caught you; I would question just how good your vixen _really_ is. I've only seen her bust major criminals that you've already beaten."

"Know why you're not going to get away with running the show and making Clockwerk your pawn?" Sly said, walking back towards his cheap little bench on the side of the wall.

"Enlighten me," Karla moaned dramatically. She put the back side of her right paw over her forehead.

"Because you don't believe in anything but your ego, babe." Sly gave her a wink then added, "Once Sire is out of the picture, Clockwerk is going to want to run the show and Donovan is dead. That leaves you with a smart geek who built a metal owl out of a real one. So much for your invincible circle of power players, Karla. It's crumbling around you."

"Who says' we're all omnipotent? The strong survive, the weak shall parish," The half-breed mused.

Sly shrugged with his infamous dashing grin and rebutted, "Then it looks like you're all a bunch of over-celebrated weenies."

"You've just become boring," Chintzy said, immediately disappearing. Sly gave a smile, placing his paws behind his head. He leaned back on the bench quietly. Now to relax until Carmelita could come back.

* * *

**Carmelita approached the control panel of the jail lock release terminal**, standing adjacently to the machine. "Looks like it's locked out and I'll need a pass code. You ready to go to work, Tortoise?" She said, placing a paw to her ear.

"Always," Replied Bentley over the radio in his usual nasal voice. "Do me a favor, Carmelita. Take your radio earpiece out of your ear and place the Binoc-u-com against the terminal controls, please?"

Carmelita did so and waited, holding the transceiver against the computer terminal. After a few short moments, a message come up on the computer screen that read, "802.11G network communication established. Bluetooth technology drivers installed. New Device driver found: Binoc-u-Com 1100 Version 1.26D." The message disappeared, followed by, "Network firewall disabled. Connection to host server established. Connection to Bentley-Luvs-UR-PC(dot)net established. Connection link signal: 100." To Carmelita's amusement, the messages continued to pop up and disappear, indicating Bentley's status.

Another message displayed, citing, "Download in progress: _GetBENT_(ley)Trojan. Zip." A moment later, "Download Completed. Unzipping files, extracting executable files. Rewriting to system registry, stand by." A small green light on the side of the computer terminal began to flash for a moment, then it went to a solid green-lit status. Carmelita smiled. The light indicated the lock was open on the cell. She took the Binoc-u-com off the terminal, shoved it into her pocket and pushed the earpiece back into her ear.

"What was the point of taking out my earpiece?" She asked, heading back towards the hallway where she left Sly.

"Trust me," Bentley chuckled slightly, sounding as if he had a head cold, as normal, "You wouldn't want to have heard the data transfer noise. It's an annoying sound, especially right in your ear. Hurry and get Sly out of that cell… WAIT!"

"Pardon?" The Inspector replied with a blink.

"I see that Lion guy coming back down the hallway on the security camera! Stay put. You're safe on the other side of the door, he doesn't know you're there," Bentley exclaimed.

* * *

**The locking mechanism was so quiet** that Sly never knew it had become unlocked. Familiar footsteps caused a shutter to run down his spine. The Sire was returning. Cooper stashed the gold necklace into his sleeve and grinded his teeth together, narrowing his eyes. The delicate faced feline returned to the hallway, facing Sly with a smile. He was wearing a different shirt, now.

"I've misjudged the both of you," Sire said with a shake of his head. "Your little friend was the target to begin with, because we know she destroyed the Hate Chip in the first place. I didn't see her as quite a capable foe but I saw the whole thing on our surveillance footage. She's murdered Donovan Loupe. Since I've become the Secretariat General of Interpol, I can promise you that this rogue cop will be tried as a murderer and put in jail accordingly. Ironic, no?"

On the other side of the door, Carmelita was sweating bullets. She balled her paws into fists, but stayed on the other side of the door, as instructed. Sly approached the cell bars, folding his arms. Before he could get out a witty comment, Sire engaged his powerful mind altering abilities. The aura around his body became visible to Sly, who struggled, falling slowly to his knees.

"How is it, you have the ability to struggle against my abilities?" Sire said, tilting his head. The thick mane that framed his effeminate facial features shifted, pooling on his right shoulder from the way he moved his head; gaze narrowing, looking at Sly with disgust. "It seems like you're stronger than the last time, which was twice the ability you portrayed on our first visit. First blinking, then going psycho, and now I can't even get you to lie down?"

"Fff-… Nggh.. F-f-fiiight… m…me," Sly struggled to say.

"Fight you?" The lion quipped. "I don't fight, you half-wit! I make my enemies destroy themselves. I can't seem to locate Karla; no matter, I'll kill you myself," Sire said, shaking his head. "Here you go," He said, passing a double-shot handgun through the bars. "Take this and place it to your head. There's a bullet for each of you, I promise."

Much to Sly's dismay, his right paw extended, taking the gun. His paw lifted, the barrel brushed the side of his head, half buried into the fur, above his right temple. His paw was shaking violently, his nerves tense and his body quivering. He struggled against the mental powers used on him, but he wasn't strong enough to pull his paw away from his head.

"You want to shoot me, but you can't. Your body submits to me… The trick is," Sire chuckled, "Making you pull the trigger, when you're the only one I know who has the ability to fight _my_ abilities. It'll be a treat… a personal delight, to make you end your life."

Just then, the door at the end of the hall swung open and Carmelita stormed in. She rushed towards the Sire, being as emotional and instinctual as she was, handing her conscious thought over to her inner animal. She couldn't let Sly die. "NO one hurts Sly Cooper, except ME!" She cried, trying to lunge at the lion. She only got as far as several feet into the hallway before the power of his will-bending abilities hit her with full force.

The vixen stopped in her tracks, struggling to go further. Her body betrayed her and she couldn't do anything more than stand there. Sire smiled. "Sly, throw the weapon to Inspector Fox. Let's play a game of ring-around-the-roulette. After all, I had forgotten my manors: Ladies first, correct?"

Sly blinked, simply watching his right paw reaching through the bars. He couldn't even feel his body moving like this. It was like watching his numb arm, in third person. The raccoon lobbed the weapon towards Carmelita, who caught it, placing it against her own head now. Cooper's heart began to race.

Sly's eyes widened slightly. "…no," he whimpered softly. Sire augmented his supernatural mien a thousandfold. Sire, the attractive lion, became paralyzingly beautiful. His abilities inspired respect, devotion, fear… all at once. His potent mystique held Carmelita under his thrall.

"Yes," Sire snapped in reply to Sly's soft plea. "Now, Inspector Fox, take your thumb and cock the hammer, my dear." The emotional vixen attempted to struggle against his willpower-dominating feats but it was a fruitless gesture. The padded thumb of her right paw found the cold metal hammer and drew it back until it clicked into the locked position.

"Any last words to your friend, Mister Cooper?" Sire asked; a soft, throaty growl rolled at the back of his gullet. He eased up on his majestic presence, so that Sly could speak. His powers could cow the influential and make malleable those who were the fortuitous, venerable warriors. Even Sly could show acquiescence under the power of Sire's natural ability of charisma and intimidation.

"I love you, too, Carmelita," Sly said. His eyes burned with tears and his voice was full of conviction. He couldn't lose her. He only left her because of that stark realization that taking down unfinished business meant securing their possible future together. It may have been true that he rarely, if ever, said that he loved her but the fact of the matter was he felt it.

Once his words were spoken, Sire resumed the ultimate power of esoteric awe. His sublime magnetism was amplified; however, the smitten Sly Cooper did not lose his sense of self-preservation. Carmelita, new to this shocking power, was locked under the powerful entrancement. Sire narrowed his eyes at Sly, angered by the raccoon's resistance of preternatural will.

The Lion narrowed his eyes, looking from Cooper back to the trembling Inspector, whose body quivered under the stress of trying to force the gun away from her own head. "Now, you've killed my personal Champion. You've managed to defeat the Black Metamorphosis, my personal body guard. I'm not sure how," Sire told Carmelita, "He's immune to bullets; they pass through him when he shifts into his tenebrous form. Most people are filled with debilitating terror when they witness his abilities. So, while you impress me, you must be punished," He explained to her.

Sly's enduring devotion to Carmelita was stronger than Sire's perversion of supernatural dominance. The raccoon gripped the cell bars, his mind racing, rage filling his heart once more. His emotions were bubbling, transmuting his worry and agony into frenzy. A guttural scream ripped from the gray-furred thief's muzzle and he pulled his paws in opposite directions. Little did the lion realize, the lock had been released on the gate and the bars slid apart, releasing Sly from his cage!

The mesmerized gaze of the Vixen was fixed upon Sire. Sly was conversant to his bizarre, hypnotic abilities. With finesse, Cooper dashed forward, leaping through the air, just as Sire used emphasis on his next command, shouting for her to pull the trigger, turning his head at the last moment, only to see Sly in mid lunge.

The gun fired. It was a command to directly go against her innate, intrinsic nature to survive and yet she complied with the order. Sly's paws were out before him, connecting with Carmelita's torso, just as the bullet ripped from the barrel. The moment lasted forever. His palms were stretched outward, his fingers spread apart, connecting with her gut. The cacophony of sound was all consuming. Immediately following, there was perfect silence. The room seemed to stop. Every heart beat in the span of the corridor came to a momentary halt. For Sly, it was the blast heard around the world, for this moment of time consumed his entire universe.

Somewhere in the world, a second-hand clicked forward and time began again. Carmelita's body, standing off balance, was thrown back with the transfer of translational kinetic energy. The scalar quantity of power was shifted into the vixen's furry form. Her arms flailed up as the blast occurred. She toppled back, crashing to the floor. A pool of blood began to collect upon the hallway carpet, soaking it a rush of garnet liquid.

The claret splashed across the ground. Sly stood up, gawking at her crumpled form, seeing the pool of ruby behind her ear. In that moment, he lost all means of inhibition. The raccoon whirled around to face Sire. Their gaze locked and at that moment the Lion could have sworn he could see a sunswept glow inside Cooper's angry orbs. Sly was exasperated.

He took Sire by the throat with both paws. The forcefulness of his grasp caused the necklace he'd stolen earlier, to slip from his sweeter sleeve, half resting upon the top of his paw. Sire's eyes widened in disbelief, seeing the object.

"You fool! No wonder you had the ability to fight my powers, you stole the necklace of Will!" He exclaimed. The words went on deaf ears. Sly threw the lion into the bookshelf against the wall. Cooper dashed forward, snatching his favored cane from the hooks next to the shelf, where it hung from the wall.

He quickly snatched Sire back with the hook, drawing the lion back to his feet, so that the two were eye to eye again. "Your days of malevolent monarchy are _over_," Sly said with an eerie calm in his voice. The Thievious protagonist used his cane to lift the lion by the belt, throwing his adversary further down the hall. He dashed forward leaping through the air, to pounce the king of beasts when something, out of nowhere, swatted the raccoon back down the hallway.

Sly rolled to a stop, laying besides Carmelita. A prehensile tentacle emerged from a patch of dim lighting. The battered being who invoked the refined, well-controlled darkness, stepped into the room, narrowing his eyes. The lion lay still; Carmelita was motionless.

"Stay out of my way," Sly said, turning his sights upon Sire once more. Donovan shook his head slowly, then lifted his paws. He called upon his inner darkness and infused himself with it. His body began a twisted metamorphosis, becoming a monstrous hybrid of matter and shadow. His form became mottled with spots of tenebrous shade and wispy tentacles, which extruded from his torso and abdomen. His newly demonic appearance bubbled to the surface. Donovan's head appeared to fade away into nothingness, swathed in otherworldly darkness. The combined wriggling tentacles writhing from his body created an unsettling sight.

Sly swallowed, building up his courage before lunging into full-on paw-to-paw combat. He swung his cane out, but it wrapped around one of the shadowy arms that emanated from the monstrous freak. With a single swat, Sly was thrown to the wall, cane and all.

Cooper made a quick rebound, dashing back into the fight. The raccoon lifted his cane to the air, swinging it at Donovan's shadowy-morphed form. The wolf's mastery of darkness was so extensive that he physically became darkness. Sly passed through it, allowing the blood-lusting Loupe to slither forward, as an amoeboid patch of shade.

"Your boyish concupiscence for Inspector Fox has been cured; you should thank us, you lascivious raccoon!" Donovan chided in a relaxed tone.

"You'll both _die_ for even _touching _her!" Cooper rebuked quickly.

Sly turned about, swinging his cane through the center of the tar-like shadow, but it did no harm. The transformation allowed Donovan to become invulnerable to physical attack. He oozed over Sly's body, enveloping the raccoon. The shroud of viscous raven cloud lifted Sly's body. It was an unnerving experience. All light within was obscured. Sound became muddled and warped. Everything the raccoon heard outside the shroud of night was distorted. His body, immersed in pitch, was unable to breathe; smothered by the murk, Sly grew agitated. He could feel himself drowning in the tarry mass; he lost all sense of indistinguishability.

Donovan, in this shadowy form, dripped upwards until he was upon the ceiling. The unholy shadow began to evaporate its own state of evanescence, releasing Sly so that he fell to the ground. The raccoon landed upon his back and the wind was knocked from his lungs, leaving him to gasp for air. Sly rolled over, onto his stomach, to instinctively protect his throat and face, in this state of temporary immobilization.

The wolf's vicissitude had returned him to his monstrous form, lashing out with ebon tendrils, which sought to eviscerate the master thief. A gunshot was heard in reply. The dissonance of chaotic sound stood alone for a moment. Simultaneous to the connection of the scythe-like shadow extension against Sly's body, a bullet slammed into Donovan's forehead, between his eyes.

It all happened in slow-motion and yet it all transpired in an instant. Sly's body was slashed, thrown clear across the hall and yet Donovan was thrown back by the force of the bullet upon his forehead. Both men came crashing to the ground in unison. Carmelita picked herself up and dashed over to Sly's motionless figure.

Blood ran down the side of her head, pouring out of the fresh hole at the tip of her ear, adjacent to a golden hoop. Hot tears streamed down her face and in that moment, every nightmare she'd ever experienced came to haunt her, all at once. They flashed before her eyes, torturing her. She knelt besides him, drawing his head into her lap, cradling him.

She begged for his life. She yearned for him and ached like no other, in that instant. This time, she _did_ try to save him. Her nightmares became a phantom of reality. "Don't be dead," She whispered into his ear. "Don't leave," She pleaded. "Bentley?" Silence. "Sly?" Silence. She was consumed by sorrow, fear and heart break. The lamenting vixen closed her eyes, choking tears out of those soft amber orbs. They ran down her furry cheeks, matting them in a haphazard sort of disarrayed mess.

Carmelita clung to him. She experienced exquisite suffering. Her eyes were swollen, blinding her vision with hot liquid that burned down the side of her muzzle. Encroaching darkness was the result of her dirge. She wasn't sure if she should pray in hope or cry a requiem in mourning.

_'Me, he did it for_ _me_,' her mind repeated, and her chest twisted in knots when she realized just how lonely she felt. Carmelita pulled Sly further into her lap, stroking the back of his neck. Regret had nested inside of her. Was Sly Cooper's demise really true? She ran her fingers down the back of his neck, feeling where his sweeter was torn. Ragged flesh and wet meat touched her finger and her heart seemed to stop.

A whimper was issued; the only sound in the room. The world stood still.

* * *

A/N: _NOW we see some lamenting. Is Sly really dead? Do I have the balls to kill off a main, Gaul character? C'mon now… logic, my lovelies! So, I guess Donovan wasn't paying attention to Carmelita, while fighting Sly, so he got blasted… just like Carmelita's gun went off and clipped her ear, when Sly bowled her over… Yeah, she's not going to be able to hear out of it right away… her eardrum won't be blown… It's a good thing she had that earpiece pushed down in her ear… that probably reflected a lot of the sound. But why isn't Bentley replying? Well c'mon… a gun was fired into her earpiece…. Back at the base, his speakers probably blew out, hehe. Well, Sire's unconscious. Looks like Sly happened to lift the necklace that gave it's user an iron will, which Sire kept on himself, so that it wouldn't be used against him. Who else could have pinched the Pendant of Will? ;) Now, laying at the brink of death, will that necklace save Sly? Will it give him the iron will to not only defy Sire, but stare Death in the face and live to tell? Where the heck is Karla at, while all this is going on? What about Steven the Skunk? Is Clockwerk finished yet? WHO KNOWS! Find out all these answers and more… when I post the last chapter of ACT2, Same Sly Time! Same Sly Channel! Lemmie know how this chapter makes you guys feel! _

_Oh, and incidentally, are/is my descriptions/vocabulary over the top? Usually I try to tone it down and be a bit considerate because being over the top with one's descriptions can really slow down the reader's rhythmic flow of the story. I think I was just in a rush to post tonight and got lazy about my edits. I dunno, maybe I was in a strange mood, who knows… Love you guys:)_

_-Kit _


	8. Confetti at the Devils Parade

A/N™: _Here we go! ACT 3! The final cluster of chapters. This one will start slow because I've got a ton of information holes to fill and a foundation of future action chapters to lay. I think I might take it out to about 9-to-11 chapters. Somewhere in there. Not sure yet. I've been known to write stories that average about 14-16 chapters. We'll see! _

_By the way, I'm putting the main bulk of the author's banter at the bottom today because I felt chatty and wrote a lot of blathering for some reason. hehe_

_As you'll remember my explanation of The Lambada when naming Act2 after that dance… it can sometimes be notorious for ending with a sudden shift-and-grind on the last dance step, which can make the dance climatic and exciting at the end of the measure. Buwahaha. To be honest, I had planned to have a short, flirty, romantic moment but it didn't happen because of my mood and because that's the way the muse wanted to take me when I was writing… So, is Sly really dead? What's going to happen to Carmelita? It's HER story, after all! Let's find out, shall we?_

_And to those of you who Private Message me about the stories and my writing… THANK YOU! Like I've been saying… I love when you people email, Instant Message or PM me. I'm a chit-chatty person. I love to talk to people even if they haven't read my stories, and even if they dislike my stories. Heck, I've got friends who can't get into my stories at all, or may only just like one out of the 7 that I've got posted. It makes no difference. Everyone's entitled to their own opinion__ :D Yaw'll can probably tell I love to talk because I keep putting these silly Author's Notes_™_ in here to talk about the price of tea in china. _

_Now, enjoy, my lovelies… I've kept you on your toes with the last chapter and the scare! It's time to see where that all leads! And why! And how Sly's upcoming vision will play into the rest of the story! And introduce a new villain! I think I'll throw one in, somewhere, for good measure. I wonder how I'll incorporate that into the story… It was a suggestion from a reader who emailed me… lol. Btw, I got silly with the trademark_™_ sign just because I can :D I originally just used it for "TramTrain" because I made the name out, as opposed to like, amtrak lol. Then during the editing stage, using Fan Fic's editor thingy, I just pasted it all over like a retard. :) I don't really do it that much in the story, except for "hate chip" once or twice, hehe... and where it's supposed to be in TramTrain lol. _

_K-dawg._™

_

* * *

_

_**Act **3: THE FINAL DANCE_™

_Chapter 8: Confetti_™_ at the Devil's_™_ Parade_™

**Murray glanced out the window of the high speed train**. He was inside of a tunnel watching as the hind end of a passing train disappeared from his gaze; his eyes now reflected the rectangular white lights that flew passed, which lined the interior of the tunnel. He swallowed down a bit of saliva to counter balance the feeling of his ears popping then glanced down at his hands.

"Next stop, Downtown Prague. The Hlavni Nadrazi station is just minutes from Wenceslas Square. Thank you for riding TramTrain ™." The words were repeated several times in Russian, English and finally, his native language of French. Murray stood from his seat, picking up a backpack and shouldering it over his left arm. He couldn't help but note that several people were staring at him with a narrowed, untrusting gaze.

One of the people eased their shoulder out so that he accidentally bumped into them in passing. "Oh, I'm really sorry, pardon me," Replied the hippo as he made his way for the door. With one last glance over his shoulder, he realized that everyone was still watching him, and an uneasy shutter crept into his chest.

Stepping off the train into the dank streets of Prague, Murray continued through the train station and headed for the streets. "These people may not seem like they fear 'The Murray', but there's no reason to fear _them_ either," he reminded himself. His courage returned quickly and his confidence was resolved. It was time to find Sly.

"I'm here," he said aloud, to nobody. Soft snowflakes fell from the sky, having previously layered the world in a fresh coating of virgin snow. Lamp posts had little white cone-shaped hats and automobiles were covered, looking like mere square-shaped lumps down each street lane. At the end of the extremely extravagant and well-lit boulevard was a prominent statue of King St. Wenceslas, upon his horse. On one side of the boulevard there was a Museum and the State Opera.

People came and went every which way, enjoying the night life that the massive square had to offer. It could easily hold up to half a million people but this time of year there were only a few hundred shoppers. Many were simply walking, to various shops or other random destinations, through the softly falling snow. Murray's eyes cut from left to right before settling upon a fairly large building half way up the block. He may not have been the most intelligent man on the team but he certainly knew a bank when he saw one. After all, he was a driver; it was his job to know what a bank looks like, especially when in a hurry.

"Excellent," Came the radio reply over Murray's earpiece. "From here, you're going to head straight down the street you're facing. This is the main thoroughfare in this part of the City. Lucky for us, the Bank is only a brisk walk down the road. I lost contact with Carmelita just a few minutes ago; it was the strangest thing. I heard arguing and speaking and someone told Carmelita … well, it's nothing I want to worry you with now, but there was a gunshot and her earpiece internal microphone diode was blown out, so now I can't make contact with her."

"I'm on it, lil' buddy! You can count on 'The Murray' to get the job done and rescue Sly!" The hippo cried, breaking into a light jog. He continued to tell himself that the cold didn't bother someone with super strength, even though it only took a few minutes before he couldn't really feel his toes.

The turtle shrugged, sounding leary."Just remember, we're rescuing Carmelita, too. Not for us, but Sly would want that. She was supposed to be the one helping _him_, so I hope you can help them both!" Bentley said over the binoc-u-com with a sigh of worry.

It only took several minutes to reach the Bank. The wind was picking up and the soft snowflakes were swirling on the wind's breath. The heavens began to offer an addition to the precipitation that felt more like iced pitchforks. The soft pellets of hale caused the infamous getaway driver to pull his driving goggles over his eyes. "I'm here," he announced proudly.

"We can't get you in the way that Carmelita got in, we're going to have to try a different tactic," Bentley said. "While I was in their network, earlier, with Carmelita's help, I deactivated their external and main security alarm on the back door… but it's still locked and bolted. I'll need you to bash it in and go in the back way!"

"There isn't a job that _can't_ be handled with _my_ brute strength!" Announced the hippopotamus, who slipped into the alley, heading alongside the building. A rattle from a nearby dumpster caused him to glance over his shoulder, gazing half way down the dark corridor. He squinted through his snowflake covered goggles and said, "Hold tight, Bentley. No witnesses, just incase I'm being followed; a job must be done." The alley was a decline, running downwards parallel to the building's side.

"It might just be a homeless bum; make sure you're not being followed then get on with the Bank," Bentley advised, reaching a hand up to push his glasses further up his somewhat beak-shaped nose.

A being appeared from the darkness, picking the entire dumpster up with only his left paw. Murray couldn't quite tell what species he was in the gloom but could see the outline of his stance. The character was down on one knee, with his other leg spread far apart, to get the balance to lift the massive, cumbersome object.

"That's pretty impressive," Murray noted, putting his fists up. He knew it was go time. The dark wolf-shaped silhouette chucked the dumpster forth. Murray was quick to dodge to the left, knowing that there was no way to simply catch something like that. He squatted his knees, leaning back as if he were pushing his mid-back against a set of turnbuckle ropes then leaped up into the air, holding his limbs outstretched.

His thunderous belly flop connected with the beast, flattening it into the snow. He then lifted his right arm, upon standing up and punched the ground to try and shake the dark being off it's feet, but it didn't react the way most physical bodies would have. He was inches from the being now and still couldn't see what it was.

A quick jab was delivered to Murray's gut causing him to grunt but he returned the favor, throwing his fist forward. It sunk into the shadowy object, passing right through it to his horror. "What?" The hippo exclaimed, trying again. His fist passed right through the shadowy figure. It quickly gave him a shove to put distance between their stances and he stumbled back, putting his fists back up for another round.

A gunshot was heard, emanating from a window about three and a half stories above Murray's position. The shadowy beast lurched backwards, clutching its forehead. It sunk to its knees causing Murray to tilt his head in surprise. The being struggled to stand up, obviously not dead yet. Not wanting to waste any time, Murray pounded a bulging pink fist into the opposite palm then immediately clapped his palms together, causing his fists to erupt into flame.

It was a trick he'd learned at a magician's theater, run by a Hollywood illusionist, while on vacation between jobs a while back, when the Clockwerk parts first went missing. The man he learned it from was part of an effects team on a Hollywood production staff, that Bentley and Sly helped him become apart of, shortly after Rajan the Tiger went into hiding (A/N: _Sly2 Band of Thieves)_.

The shadowy figure had no face and its ghostly form scurried away from the flaming fists which illuminated the alleyway with a flicker of light that seemed to lick up the brick walls. Murray tucked his fist back then offered forth a wallop of an uppercut. The fiery connection caused the shadow to dissipate quickly, vanquished by the blazing deliverance of fisticuffs.

Once vaporized, Murray shook his head in disbelief then opened the radio channel and said, "I don't even know what that was; some sort of magic maybe? I heard another gunshot from above, so I'd better hurry."

"Right!" Bentley exclaimed. "Sly and Carmelita are most likely in trouble. Make your way to the back end of the building. You'll need to break in the door!" In reply to Bentley's excitedly-voiced order, Murray dashed around the back end of the building and slammed his weight against the door. It was a solid fireproof steel door. Even a round of pulverizing punches did little more than dent the door on the outside.

Finally Murray grew frustrated and slammed his right fist into the brick wall adjacent to the door. The bricks crumbled, giving way to the plaster and support beam beneath. The rotund man delivered another punch to the crumbling material, then shut his eyes for a moment, reflecting on the teachings he'd learned from his training with the guru, in the past.

Murray, with his eyes still tightly clinched, drew his arms back and thrust his palms outwards, smashing down part of the wall. He stepped into the opening and wiggled a bit to get his back end the rest of the way through then turned to the door, once he was inside, and unlocked the metal bolt with the daintiest, most innocently child-like of motions.

"…ah… Right!" Bentley said, wasting no time to continue with his instructions. "Now, head to the other end of the room; there should be some sort of heating and air conditioning machines on your right! Just keep going and you'll see a set of stairs further ahead. Sly and Carmelita SHOULD be on the third floor! You're on the first sub-floor so you need to go up four flights of stairs."

"Right!" Came Murray's dramatically boisterous reply. He wobbled down the hall in a loose sprint and then took the stairs, heading upwards to the first floor, which was level with the main street in the front of the building. No sooner did he get to level one, the door to the stairwell burst open and three night-security guards dashed in, all facing Murray.

There was no time to act; while they were probably responding to the gunshots that were heard over the security detail's audio system, Murray knew they weren't on his side right now. He drew his fist back then clocked the first poor slob to come through the doorway. The sound of a gun was heard, clattering across the tiled floor, falling down the last set of steps with a metallic clattering noise.

Murray grasped the paw of the first dazed cop, swinging the dog around in a full circle. The hippo had the canine cop in a tight grasp by the officer's furry wrist. The swing came full circle until his body collided with the next cop who was bowled backwards. The third one leapt over the body of the first two, leveling his gun at Murray, who grasped the cop by his uniform shirt, lifted him up and quickly power-slammed him back down upon his shoulder blades.

That cop's gun was ejected from his paw, noisily skittering across the floor. Pummeled by pistoning punches, Murray was quick to ensure that none of the three cops would get up. He did this without causing any _serious_ harm.

"Murray, grab one of the police radios and press the button. Say,'_Come in dispatch, this is officer john doe. We've checked on a possible disturbance but everything checks out_.' Make sure you read the name on the badge of one of the cops so you can give a name over the radio, so they don't ask; try not to sound conspicuous."

"Officer John Doe, whose name is on the badge, right!" Murray said into the binoc-u-com, grabbing one of the unconscious cops and looking over the name on the front of his uniform before grabbing the radio receiver on his belt. "Dispatch, this is uh, Parker, here. Thee uh, possible disturbance checks out, we're going to go eat some donuts okay? Bye!" Murray released the radio receiver button and tossed it onto the guard's chest, heading back for the steps.

"This is dispatch, Sergeant Parker. Just couldn't handle that low-carb diet, huh? Copy that; possible disturbance was checked out, roger that. Enjoy your pastries, Parker; I know you always do."

Bentley cackled over Murray's radio channel, "They fell for it! Ha-ha, suckers! Hurry to the third floor, Murray!"

* * *

**Carmelita's eyes opened and she slowly hazed back into the world of** consciousness. Everything slid back into focus for her and she blinked up at the ceiling a few times, trying to get her wits about herself. For a moment, she couldn't remember why she was kneeling here, with her legs asleep under her body. 

Her muzzle lowered and her gaze came across Sly's body. Her stomach iced over with a shutter running down her spine.The vixen turned her head away slowlyand gently eased his broken form to the floor, scooting away from it. She was going to be sick. He was dead. This wasn't a dream. Sly was silent and the earpiece didn't seem to get a hold of Bentley; she simply felt alone.

Inspector Fox didn't even hear the footsteps behind her. The voice that came next startled her. "He wasn't dead when you pulled his head into your lap… but he faded just moments ago. Only a Miracle can save him now. As theAlmighty Father of the GreatLion born of a Tigress once said…. 'Thou shall not steal.' You had best pray for Monsieur Cooper. I have to wonder if there's a place for a master thief in the afterlife."

Carmelita narrowed her eyes, glancing over her shoulder at Karla. "He stole from those less deserving. I don't condone it either, but I'm sure the Creator sees in more colors than simply black and white, like I do. If He has the power to make us as complex as we are, then I'm sure He's far more complex than us, in every way. Leave me be."

"I need him alive," Karla said, holding back a snarl. "He's the only one who can fight Sire. Sire's body is of a typical mortal man. I can't even fight the pretty-faced lion while he's unconscious. Sly's life has only _just_ faded, shortly after you fainted, so there is still time. His mind is not dead. I demand that you take him to the Laboratory. I'll distract Steven, you get whatever you need to save him; I know cops learn CPR and stuff. Revive him. Do it, don't hesitate. He has less than 15 minutes. I'll work on the skunk. Now move."

Carmelita stood up, taking Sly's body and hefting it up over her shoulder. "Why, I do believe you're only helping me for your personal gain."

"Don't be so _'black and white'_," Karla said. "I'm helping you to help my self, but I'm helping _you_ instead of finding someone else to help, for my personal benefit. Now get going." With that said, her form disappeared, fading away to nothing.

More confusing shades of gray. Carmelita carried Cooper's body, with some semblance of renewed hope, towards the Lab. She didn't have time to dispatch Sire's unconscious body at this moment; time was precious.

Love or not, hate or not, Carmelita had a duty as a police office to the life and wellbeing of those she had to protect; law breaking or not. She continued to tell herself these words, while heaving him down the hallway. The massive swath cut into his lower back didn't help her nerves, however.

* * *

**Sly opened his eyes. He sat up and yet** there was no pain. The master thief glanced around the area in confusion. "Hello?" The world around him was dim but not dark. His question reverberated back to him but he didn't see any objects which would have provided such an echo. 

"Sly?" The raccoon turned about. He recognized the voice but it was one he'd not heard in a great deal of time. There was nothing physically discernable that he could tell. The familiar voice spoke once more, calling Sly's attention. "Sly Cooper, do you remember this voice?"

The word rolled off Sly's tongue before he could even think to put his mind behind it. "Dad?" He turned around again, then stopped, face to face with his father. Sly put his left paw over his chest and then lifted it to cover his mouth in shock. Seeing his father was impossible… unless, of course, he was… "Am I dead?"

"Your body has given out on you, son. But this is a meeting ground you might call 'Limbo'," Sly's father explained. He approached the raccoon and placed a paw upon Sly's cheek, looking him over as if he'd not seen the boy since Clockwerk's attack, when Sly was a child.

"I can't be dead. I've not continued the Cooper line!" Sly said with a sigh. His father touched his palm to the younger raccoon's shoulder, drawing him into a subtle hug. Sly bit his lower lip for a moment. If he was dead, he didn't act quickly enough in life and now the Cooper name and bloodline was gone. "Can't something be done about this? Dad?"

"Listen, I don't have long, Sly m'boy," He said, patting his son's back before releasing him from the fatherly embrace. "I've seen you defeat Clockwerk multiple times, protect our vault and history. I've seen you do things that never cease to impress me. Mom's proud of you and so are your grandparents from both sides. Just know that nobody blames you for what happened."

"Are these guys really to blame for ordering Clockwerk to come after us?" Sly asked, folding his arms across his chest.

His father offered a compassionate smile but held a serious tone. "Remember, Sly. Everyone answers to somebody else. The key to taking one man out is to eliminate the man he answers to. You break the chain of command and before communication can be reestablished, you'll have had your chance to sink your target. We're proud of you, Sly." To Sly, this meant that the only way of finally ensuring Clockwerk would never return was by destroying those involved with his construction in the first place: Steven and Sire.

"But what about Carmelita? Is… was she the right one?" Sly asked.

"Only the two of you can answer that," Said the older man with a witty grin. "You're tougher than pain, don't show any weakness. Actually, I've never seen you show weakness, Sly. To defeat Sire, you need to learn how to _not_ fight him. The stronger your will, the stronger he is. Trust your instincts, son. Oh, and one more thing. McSweeny really turned out to be a good guy. He turned out to be the man I trusted during my heists with him. I appreciate what he'd done by telling you about the Cooper Vault and I'm even more thankful he waited until you were ready to learn about it. Tell him you heard I wanted to thank him for all he's done after my passing. He'll know why when he looks in the mirror."

"I thought I've died?" Sly asked thoughtfully. "How do I tell him for you?"

"As far as Carmelita," Said Sly's father was a soft chuckle. "You can't see what I can see _right now_, because you've not completely passed yet. I love you." With that, Sly's world began to grow dark; fuzzy. For the flash of a moment, he could see the outside of Prague, from high above the bank building. He could see the old compound where Contessa used to make her prison, and he could see soft flakes of white dropping about himself.

"Dad?" His words sounded empty as if they were muffled in his own ears. Suddenly, pain lanced through his lower back and he felt a pressure on his chest as if Murray, the group's burley get-away driver, was standing on his ribcage. "Dad?" he asked again.

"Trust in your instincts. I'm proud of you, Sly." The words seemed far away and yet they were calmly spoken and full of admiration. Sly suddenly felt a jolt of pain in his chest and yet the most tender, loving sensation upon his lips. His eyes fluttered open and his heart jumped, nearly out of his chest, gazing up into the soft amber orbs of Carmelita Fox.

She lifted her head, breaking the lip-lock connection. She looked flustered but it was obvious that she'd provided him with the breath of life. It had been a startling long time since their lips had met in such a way and a flood of warmth filled his chest, regardless of the pain in his back.

"Don't… don't do that again," She said, drawing herself back to give him space. He lay on the table of the Laboratory and sat up slowly, wincing at the feeling of the gash on his lower back. It wasn't a fatal wound, in and of itself. It was, however, a hard enough strike to have stopped his heart; she saved him and returned the favor for all the times she was the damsel in distress.

Sly pulled up into a full sitting position then just stared at her for a moment. She blinked awkwardly as if to ask, '_What_?' But the word never passed her lips. Sly gave a slight grin, trying to ignore the pain. He finally rebutted to her expression with, "Every time I come to Prague, anymore, I wind up behind bars and I wind up having to save you."

"Did you just say what I thought you said? Save _me_, huh? I'll remember that, next time I have to scrape you off the pavement after a fight with those freaks. Remember, I can hardly hear in one ear, so speak up, Cooper," She noted, trying to show that she was irritated with him. The angry tone, however, was not in her voice. She wasn't convincing and Sly responded with a smile.

He nodded at the reminder of the fact that she'd had a gun go off just inches from one of her ears then tilted his head slightly. "Just remember one thing, Carmelita. If I didn't do anything," Sly reminded her, "You'd have a hole in your head instead of your ear…" he trailed off then lowered his head, glancing up at her, furtively. "I'm glad you're all right."

"I've never seen you upset before," Carmelita admitted off handedly. "What brought that about, anyhow?"

Sly frowned, looking away for a moment. "He ordered the death of my family and the attacks on my family members at the talons of Clockwerk, time after time, far back into my family's personal history," Cooper said, then thoughtfully added, "But losing you is beyond my comprehension. It was a reflexive instinct to keep the innocent from harm."

"I'm far from innocent, this time. I've never broken a law in my life and yet, here I am to try and rescue you," The vixen muttered sourly. She offered a vituperative swear under her breath, then turned away, laying her ears flat. "You owe me, Ringtail."

"Carmelita," Sly whispered softly, directing his voice at her good ear while sliding his legs off the side of the workbench. Behind her, Clockwerk's empty gaze looked on. The massive, metallic owl wasn't finished yet; his body was there in pieces but there was no mind, no glare, and no response. As odd as it felt to have the upper half of the body and head sitting there, literally taking up the entire wall from floor to ceiling, Sly knew it wasn't a threat.

"Don't you dare '_Carmelita…!_' me, Mister Sly Cooper!" She exclaimed, turning back to face him with her paws on her hips.

"I just wanted to thank you for risking your life for mine, it's a first but it's refreshing," Sly said, offering a light yet playful smile, leaving Carmelita to attempt looking vexed again. She approached Sly, placing her right index finger against his nose, narrowing her eyes as if she was about to deliver a lecture.

Before she could react, Sly leaned forward, tilting his head. She saw what he was trying to do and jerked her head back, so that she left him outstretched, looking to make contact. Her lower lip quivered for a moment, just gawking at him. She blinked then slowly shifted forward, easing into the gap between their lips. Why… _how_ could this feel so right? She nearly lost her job for this man. She nearly lost her respect for this man. Now she was nearly losing her self control for this man.

Her eye lids began to lower, simultaneous to closing the gap between her soft pallid flesh and his own soft tiers. Again, she realized in the back of her mind that her lower lip was quivering in anticipation of what was about to transpire. She was his polar opposite and he was magnetic, beyond her means. Her iron will was bent and in this moment, she wanted nothing more than to melt into this kiss.

She could feel his whiskers brush against her fur from their proximity. She could feel his hot breath caressing her trembling lower lip. Both pined so very deeply for this moment. Both of them had secretly fantasized and dreamed about this moment, whether it be in nightmares or daydreams. .There was just centimeters between them and this beautifully anticipated action.

"Steven is coming back, let's GO you too!" Cried Karla from behind them. Carmelita had been so lost in the moment that was about to happen, that she literally gasped to stifle a startled scream. She turned her head from Cooper, whirling around to face the half-breed.

"Why are _you_ still helping us?" Carmelita snapped.

"C'mon now," Chintzy chortled in delight, seeing how well she ruined the moment for the two of them. "Not _all_ supernatural beings can be _evil_. We have small scale political societies just like everyone else. Just like we have spies whose only task is to infiltrate those of our kind that cause terror. Now get out of my sight and take down Sire before he has all of us on a plate."

Carmelita's smirk evolved into a grin, hearing how Karla turned a drawn out explanation into a terse way to get straight to the point at the end of her statement. "You're making me hate you a little less. All right," She added, turning to Sly and hooking her thumb. "Let's go… How's your injury? I bandaged you up as best as I could."

"I feel like a made man," Sly mused, picking his cane up from the table. He pointed at the back door, then nodded to Carmelita. As much as he was disappointed that Karla ruined the moment, he knew he could manage it again if he played his cards right. He played off the sudden rejection with his usual, candid demeanor. "See you in the back hall." With that, he lifted the cane, sliding the hooked end through one of the cable drawn hooks that was currently out of use, for putting Clockwerk together.

He struggled to pull himself up the line, then glanced back at the two women. "Go on, scram ladies. I'll be all right, I've just got to get something done before I leave this room; stop worrying about me."

Sly put his foot into the crane hook rung, then used his cane to pull himself up into the rafters and disappeared from their view. Carmelita narrowed her eyes then pointed to the back door. "Let's move."

"Suit yourself," Karla replied, facing Carmelita's now-partially deafened ear. The vixen didn't hear what the Felox said. Chintzy's form faded from view, leaving Carmelita alone. The vulpine cop turned to see the woman's body fluttering out of existence and grunted softly in reply. Carmelita shook her head then made a dash for the back door. Up in the rafters, Sly sat in the corner, behind Clockwerk's massive head, staying out of view.

* * *

**Murray stepped into the hallway** of the third floor. Up ahead, he spotted a door that was wide open. His curiosity got the better of him and so he approached it, peering down the next hall. His face contorted into a look of displeasure, seeing a man dead in the hallway. There was a bullet between his eyes. Another wound was spotted on his right shoulder and left paw. 

There was a thick stain of blood a few feet away, in the carpet and another bloodstain further up the hall, in front of an oddly placed jail cell which had an open slide-gate on the front. A pistol lay on the floor in the middle of the hallway, a wisp of smoke still emanated from the end of the barrel. The room smelled strongly of gunpowder and death.

"Eww," Murray groused, turning away from the hallway and heading back into the main third-floor corridor. "There's a lot of blood in one of the hallways, and some guy has bullet holes in him, but no sign of Sly," He reported over the radio.

"Roger that," Bentley said, shaking his head over the tiny Binoc-u-com screen. "I just intercepted a communication from the leader, who calls himself SIRE, to a supernatural assassin named Reaper. I don't know if he even really exists. He's always been hailed as a Kaiser Sozé to keep the apes in line; scary reputation, if he's real."

"Aww geeze," Murray said in reply. "More bad guys, I don't know how we're going to even the score."

The tortoise nodded in agreement. "You know, evening the score might just be what we need, I'll see about getting Penelope's help. Find Sly and Carmelita. I'll let you know what the plan of action is when you find him, so I have time to crunch numbers and figure out the best probability is on different possible plans. "

"Get Sly and Carmelita," Murray replied, adding, "You'll talk to Penelope, right. What about Carmelita, she's a cop!"

Bentley scoffed. "She's also been placed on '_International Fugitive, shoot-to-kill_' status; she's in just as much danger as the rest of us are! Make sure you tell her this; she won't become a liability if she knows she has no choice but to help us; I just don't trust her." Bentley shrugged, there was no justification for his feelings toward Inspector Fox, other than pure business. They were thieves and she was a cop. At least he could plainly see that Murray was behind him on the trust issue concerning the vixen.

"Okay, I'll tell'em," Murray said, heading down the next hallway. From around the corner, Carmelita dashed into the hallway, nearly slamming right into the burley hippo. "Carmelita!" He exclaimed, blinking several times. "Where's Sly!"

"Being his usual stubborn self," She said in a scolding tone.

"Bentley says we've got to find Sly, together if we can, but I don't exactly trust a cop to help us, even if you're a wanted fugitive now, with orders against you to shoot you on sight. But I think I can make an exception for you if Sly can accept you."

"That's… nice to know, wait, what!" She balked. "Shoot to kill orders! I'm a fugitive? How? I've not escaped from prison, I was simply suspended!" She exclaimed, immediately enraged. "These pompous jerks are ruining my life's work, this is my career! They're making this personal!"

"Bentley also says your earpiece thing was damaged from a gunshot. Oh," Murray suddenly paused, noting for the first time, that the side of her ear was matted in blood, with a clear hole going through the tip of one ear. "Ow, how did _that_ happen?"

"The people who are trying to kill Sly are trying to kill me, too," She said, hooking her thumb back the way she came. "Let's go find Sly and figure this whole thing out."

* * *

**A woman's voice** asked, "Have you ever wondered how he's going to get out of here?" The feminine inquiry was one that caused Sly to frown. Karla Chintzy. She might not have been evil but she was certainly not earning her keep by bugging him. 

"Have you ever wondered," Cooper retorted with a casual air, "If they don't care that the roof will be ripped off when Clockwerk stands up for the first time, if they succeed?"

"Of course. I can't quite figure out how they brought the wings in through the office door," She chuckled in rebuttal, "The lab has a high enough ceiling, but there's no way to get the wings in, that I can see, unless it's one feather at a time."

"It's not my concern, they're here so they need to be destroyed," Sly said, returning a soft chuckle; one that mimicked her own. She responded with an annoyed expression. "Besides," added Cooper, "These parts won't matter for what I have in mind."

"I already know what plan you have in mind," Scolded the half-breed Felox. She reached out to pat Sly's cheek. "Report to your little turtle friend and let him figure out how to level this place."

"Why, I didn't realize you knew me _so_ well!" Sly chided, then suddenly grew quiet once the door down in the corner swung open. The raccoon tilted his head, moving to get a better angle on things. He climbed down the side of Clockwerk's empty neck, putting his cane into his muzzle, to use both of his paws.

Out of the corner of Sly's eyes the master thief raccoon could see the skunk glance up at Clockwerk, from his spot in the doorway. Steven proceeded the rest of the way through the door, helping Sire limp into the Laboratory. By the time the scientist's gaze had lifted, Sly was already gone, having climbed up inside the hull of Clockwerk's empty neck.

Inside the fuselage, there were rivets where future equipment would be welded to the interior, later. He wiggled up into the head and peered out through the empty glass-tempered eyes, watching Steven take Sire to his work bench and help the lion up onto it.

"Your little friends were just in here," Steven told the lion. Sire's soft cobalt irises lifted, gazing right into the intelligent skunk's sea-green hues. "That's right," Continued Steven, "Sly Cooper was most likely revived right on this table after Karla lured me out by telling me that you're injured. She had the ability to teleport your body but didn't; she's on my list of suspects, now. But Sly's body is not laying around, so I'm pretty sure the vixen was successful in waking him."

"This is a guess on your part?" Sire said, reaching a paw to his chest where he'd had one of his ribs broken. The injury occurred from being thrown at the wrath of Sly's cane.

"Have I ever been wrong about my guesses? I'm not a fortune teller," Steven mused, adding, "I just call it as I see it." The skunk patted his older friend upon the cheek then folded his paws behind his back. "Karla is still a child compared to us. She simply doesn't realize who she's dealing with. Although, I _am_ surprised that a mere _mortal_ cop was able to end Donovan Loupe's un-life."

"They're going to take their war to _us_, next," Said Sire with a nervous sigh. "We don't have the physical fortitude that Donovan had. This is going to boil down to one thing: Finishing Clockwerk ahead of schedule, so we have replacement muscle."

"He's already awake," Steven said, tilting his head. The skunk's tail rose up a bit, curling at the end, just behind his back. Sire's expression changed to one of slight surprise, just as the hidden Sly Cooper gawked in shock.

"What do you mean?" Sire asked, glancing over Steven's shoulder at the empty hulking upper frame of Clockwerk. He didn't see Sly hiding up behind one of the eyes at this angle.

"I've not outfitted his body yet," Steven said softly. "I have, however, got his brain running with the HateChip™ replacement. I'm downloading his memories back to his mechanical brain. I'm a few hours from total completion. Their biggest concern is to escape with their injuries, regroup and come up with a fresh plan. I'll be finished by then."

Steven paused for a moment then said, "They'll have their smartest members come to Prague and meet up with the group after advising the ones on location to set up a base of operations here in the city. I'd estimate about 10 blocks away. They'll be looking for ways to destroy the building without coming back inside and risking their lives again. They're quite a predictable 'gang'."

Sly shook his head. Karla was sitting on the outside of Clockwerk's metallic head. She whispered into one of the hearing ducts that would later be used for an ear. "They expect us to retreat. But maybe it's the best idea. If we could just sabotage Steven's work, it'll set him back long enough to let us do that."

"Why don't you teleport the Clockwerk brain and HateChip™ out the door and I'll take it back to Bentley?" Sly asked, bemused by how simple the suggestion sounded.

"Steven has it hidden. If I can't see it, I can't manipulate the object, physically," She re-explained.

"Right, right," Sly said, nodding slowly from his spot inside of Clockwerk's head. It felt so awkward and ironic in a way, to be inside the head of Clockwerk… his arch nemesis. His family's worst enemy. "I don't think retreating is a good idea. I'll need to find a way to contact Bentley and see what he thinks. I don't care _what _kind of genius he is, I doubt Steven is _really_ smart enough to guess Bentley's next move. That turtle is _un_predictable and this guy doesn't even _know_ our team, to begin with."

"Don't underestimate," Karla said, through the small metal vent leading into Clockwerk's hollow head.

"Don't over-praise the bad guys, we've had our share of victories," Sly replied. "I'm going to climb out of here, and I'll try to do it without being seen. Then I'll go downstairs and maybe find a phone line out so I can contact the team… I need to find out wherever Carmelita has run off too, as well," Cooper mused.

Karla grinned at him, peering in through the metal slats in the side-rear of the large metal cranium. "Here, let me help with that." And with a mere thought, Karla teleported both Sly and herself out of the room and into the next hallway over. Low and behold, they now stood directly besides Inspector Fox and Murray. Both of them blinked at the sudden appearance of Sly and Karla.

Murray was the first to speak. "Bentley said to contact him when I found you both. I'll put the Binoc-u-com on speakerphone!"

"Wait," Karla said, putting her paws up quickly. "Let me get us all outside. There's too much security here." She lifted her left paw and waggled her finger as if she was conducting a symphony. With each pass of her finger, another member of the group disappeared until she was the only one left. She then faded from existence as well, reappearing on the rooftop of the bank, standing with the other three.

Heavy snow fall poured from the heavens, swirling about them like a musical water-filled globe that was shaken too hard. The bite of the bitter cold brought a sense of urgency and dramatic reality to the serene scenery. The harsh snow rained about them like confetti at the devil's parade. A blizzard was in the forecast. Bad for Sly's gang but good for the possibility of innocent bystanders, as the inclement weather would get people off the streets. Murray flipped open his Binoc-u-com, which began to collect accumulation almost immediately.

Bentley's voice filled the area almost immediately and the group of four huddled around to hear him speak. The tortoise told them, "I've been crunching numbers. I believe I have found the best probable success rate in a plan that involves Penelope and myself. I'm already packing for Prague. I suggest we evacuate, fix up the injuries of those that have them and regroup. That _should_ be our best bet!

"I'm going to try and make it out there and bring Penelope with me. If I leave today, it _should_ only be a few hours by high-speed bullet train. If we can help even up the score, then that's just what we've got to do!" Bentley exclaimed. "Get out of there and locate an abandoned building about 10 blocks or so, from the Bank. We'll make _that_ the safe house and I'll come up with a plan on how we can level this bank without having to go back inside of it, if possible."

Sly's jaw dropped. Karla ribbed the raccoon with a smirk. "See, darling? I'd rub it right in your face, but a simple 'I toljda so' should suffice, Monsieur Cooper." She reached to pat his cheek. Carmelita approached them both, snatching Karla's paw by the wrist, to keep her from touching Sly's muzzle.

The two women locked their gaze for the moment. Finally, Carmelita just grinned, releasing Karla's wrist. "I think we have an understanding here, Miss Chintzy. Are we clear?"

Karla smirked in reply, returning a dramatically pleasant-toned answer. "…As crystal, Inspector Fox."

_

* * *

_

A/N™: _Sorry this was long and lacked major action. Like I said earlier, I had to set stages and stuff, here. I decided, just this once, I should be vague with my foreshadowing... just let you know that something will happen in the future (like calling in The Reaper) instead of having someone make a fore-shadowy comment or something. _

_So... Some of you have followed me from my StarFox stories and you already know how I write because I've talked about it before.. I can't tell you what's about to happen in this chapter or the next one because I have NO IDEA. Honestly, I usually close my eyes, turn on some music, tune the lyrics out and vibe on the rhythm. Then I just type. I open my eyes and follow the words as they appear on the screen. I'm reading it for the first time, just as if I really was reading through it. I have no idea what's going to happen next. That's why chapter 7 came so SOON after chapter 6… I was on the edge of MY seat, trying to find out what was going to happen next, my fingers just danced on the keys… I wrote without conscious thought. I simply dictated what was going on in the back of my mind. The front of my mind reads it in awe, if it's good… or I might be turned on, upset, saddened, heart broken, or a bundle of emotions at the end of the chapter….. then I put on a video game and blow stuff up so I can relax :D_

_My pal, Destructor, says "some writers would love to get inside your head to see what makes you tick." Heh, it's not that much, honestly. I was on a webcam with a reader the other day; I had on a sideways ballcap, I'd taken off my tie from work, my shirt was open, I was piddling with the keyboard with my left hand, with an occasional "lol" or "XD" or whatever, and twirling a drumstick in my right hand, while chewing gum. I'm as normal as they come, if not just a tad geeky! I laugh real loud, I cuss when my video-game character gets killed. I've got 3 kids, I'm a divorced single dad; 25 years old and I like to BS (Bullcrap for those of you not familiar with the acronym) on the phone, same as anyone. I've also been asked how I find the time to update 6 (out of 7) stories several times a week… here's the super secret measure I go through to get these chapters finished… I write at work, and let people think I'm merely a mediocre salesman. XD_

_Just thought I'd share that, lol._

_Finally, I am still playing sly 1, 2 and 3.. I'm not finished any of them. I bounce back and forth between them… In Sly2, I just got to Prague, with the Contessa. Interesting! It inspired a line in this chapter, where Sly says to Carmelita, "Everytime I come to Prague… I'm locked up behind bars and have to save you!" lol. I took the characters to Prague a few days before finding out that Prague is a level in the games. Like I said, I just write and if a confliction comes up, I work around it by suggesting that a conflicting statement made in the past might have been sarcastic satire or I might just try and work around it so that it SOUNDS like it was consistent all along… heh. I had Carmelita and Sly meet up in like, what? Chapter 3 was it? And there was NO mention about how awkward they must have felt since this was a "post sly3 story".. then I find out that Sly and Carmelita (SPOILER WARNING_™_, Don't go any further unless you want to know!) are dating at the end of the game... So lord knows, I had to come up with this elaborate explanation about how she just bit her tongue back in chapter 3 and tried to stay business, but now it's eating her up, so she had to bring it up to him when they met again, in the recent chapters… slick maybe, clever possibly, but the fact is… I was just covering up an inconsistency as I came across it. :) I'm tickled that nobody said anything about it, because now I can make it sound like I meant for that to happen. Hehe. That's just how I roll. I type something up, re-read it, find the mistakes, fix THOSE… and post the chapter. I'm almost done Similar Paths Taken's C11 and Reflections of Peppy C2. Woot._


	9. Duplicity

A/N: _Short Author's Note, today. See? lol_

_I noticed, in Sly2, that Bentley talks to himself (the player, really) when running over a plan in his head. That's how this chapter starts. _

:D

* * *

Chapter: 9 "Duplicity"

**The soliloquy lasted several moments. This dramatic form of **discourse continued until Penelope came back into the two-bench stall, folding her paws in front of herself, watching Bentley in the train booth for a moment. The train jolted gently as it began the process of light deceleration, heading towards the station hub-bypass, still a short way from the Chezh Republic border. They were still a solid distance away from their destination at this point.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Bentley mused thoughtfully, "I'm just trying to work out some sort of plan in my head; when we get there, we'll be under stress to get back into the Bank before Clockwerk's construction can be completed." The explanation had only just escaped his lips when the train shuttered hard and began to decelerate quickly. "What in the world!" Exclaimed Bentley, reaching to pull Penelope away from the booth wall.

The lights flickered. Two carry on bags shifted from their position on the shelf above the booth seating, slamming into the ground where Penelope had been standing less than a moment prior. The jade-hues of his flesh-colored fingertips ran through the soft white fur of her body, pulling her close then pausing when he realized just how close they were.

Having saved her from, at-most, a nasty bump on the head, she melted into his embrace for that moment. He finally shifted his weight against the seating, pressing his shell into the backrest. His heart was beating so hard that he was afraid she could feel it through the soft pallet over his chest. She _did_ feel it and covered herself by offering a nasal voice. "My, it's warm in here; is it perhaps the temperature or the proximity?"

She simply slid off of his lap then folded her arms, looking out the window for a moment, trying to decide if she should sit besides him or not. Only _she_ could bring a flushed crimson tint to the face of a green-fleshed man. His fierce blushing was rather adorable.

Deciding better on the situation, Penelope simply ran her fingers through the soft fur between her ears, looking pensive with thought. She flopped into the seat besides him, watching out the window as the train finally came to a stop. The light rain that was spotting the window back in Paris had now become snow flurries outside. The lights of their passanger car fizzled out; darkness.

Back on the Paris mezzanine earlier, above the train tracks, she remembered something similar to this closeness happening with Bentley. She soaked up every chance she got, she knew he did the same when he thought he could get away with it. There was simply no reason they weren't dating by now. They both wanted to, but nerd-love was a touch more complex than most realized.

The truth was, they had become roommates and neither geek knew how to go about having a relationship. Because of the apartment living situation, cute little things like this would happen from time to time and they would try to ignore their personal feelings concerning each incident, but she couldn't deny that the touch of his hands had felt nice, sifting through her fur just a moment prior to now.

Between the breakdown, the snow and a late departure, Penelope had to wonder what else was in store for them. "Maybe, if we make it to Prague, I'll kiss the ground of the concourse," She joked, in reference to Christopher Columbus kissing the American Beach upon his first arrival. "What's in your bag that it was so loud?" She asked, glancing over her shoulder at the outline of luggage on the floor at their feet.

The tortoise tilted his head and chuckled awkwardly. "Something that I was really hoping would get me noticed at the convention; shame I didn't have time to unleash it. They're a possible replacement for my wheelchair," Bentley explained. "I'll show you when we get there… if we get there."

"Do you want me to go and see what is holding us up?" She asked. Afterall, it would be easier for her to simply walk down the hall than for him to get up, with his wheelchair folded up in the corner.

He tilted his head in reply then cleared his throat before speaking. "Hmm, in the dark? Let's wait; there could be a good deal of confusion. I'll see how far we are from the Prague station," Bentley said, pulling the duffle that was besides him throughout the trip, onto his lap. He drew out a small machine and turned it on. The illumination of a 5 inch screen brightened the otherwise dark train booth.

Penelope could see the reflection of his gadget in the glass sliding door that closed their seating off to the rest of the train for privacy. It was about the size of a palm pilot. He mashed a few buttons on the gadget, just beneath the screen, then glanced up at her and offered a confirming nod.

Bentley cleared his throat then said, "According to GPRS, we're still a few miles from the Czech boarder. That give us about 190 miles of travel to make it to Prague, give or take; there's no mileage or kilometer indicators on the screen, here." It was a home made device, for sure. That would have to be a future addition, when he got a chance to tinker with the hand-held device in the future.

"Sounds about right," Penelope mused, glancing out the window. There was a pickup truck driving alongside the tracks; the headlights glanced along the side of the bullet train's fuselage. Penelope picked up the Binoc-u-com from Bentley's bag and peered into it, trying to zoom in on the truck.

"It's a Czechoslovakian Wolfdog," She mused, glancing back at him for a moment. "He doesn't look friendly. He's pulling his truck parallel to the train."

"That's odd; maybe he's an off-duty officer, coming to check on the train," Bentley said, shaking his head slowly. "The probability of that being the case is fairly slim."

"We can only hope; I, unfortunately, don't have a good feeling about it," She agreed, placing the Binocular Communicator back in Bentley's bag. "Two hundred miles is a solid distance. From the angle I had, it looked like the truck is a stick-shift; can you drive one of those?"

"It just so happens," Bentley said proudly, "I learned to drive a stick in India. (A/N:_ Sly2: BoT_)"

"He's boarding the train," Penelope noted, standing at the window, watching down the side of the car as best she could see from her vantage point. "Our tram-car."

"Guess we'll find out if he's hostile in a moment," The turtle muttered, reaching into his bag and pulling out a glass-cutting tool. "As much as we've stolen in our lives, I suppose it wouldn't hurt if we… borrowed that truck." He glanced over his shoudler at her, then shrugged slightly, reaching for his wheel-chair bike helmet. "I _should_ have no problems with getting the vehicle to start without keys."

Penelope frowned slightly then offered a lopsided grin. "I'll hotwire it; you drive." She was going to say more, but suddenly a noise came from down the hall. It sounded as though one of the doors down the hallway was kicked in. The sound happened again, followed by a third instance. She blinked twice. "He's searching…"

The Czech Wolfdog kicked in each door, just beneath its glass top. Only the top third of the sliding doors were glass, but in the dark, the Wolfdog wasn't able to simply peer into each booth. The sliding doors crumbled beneath each powerful, swift kick of his boots.

Six doors down the hallway, the canine smashed yet another door down, only to blink at the cold wind that came in through a large trapazoid hole, in the window. Trapazoid, of all shapes. While it didn't make any sense to the headhunter, Bentley did it for his own, personal amusement. He would have to bring it up to Sly, later, to remind him about how stupid a trapazoid hole was, from d uring the hate-chip heist, earlier.

From the train's position, up on the tracks, he could see the lights of his pickup truck flash on. The Wolfdog's face went from that of being perplexed to shock and horror. How did they escape so quickly, let alone make it to his truck that fast? The window's hole was large enough for a full size adult to get through, with ease. Let alone a Wheelchair with a jetpack and two short people with duffle bags.

There were two large bags and a fancy looking wheel chair in the back of the truck's flatbed. The lights dimmed then fluttered with brightness and the brake lights flashed. A grinding sound could be heard from the vehicle down where it was, away from the tracks. The truck pointed alongside the train, facing east. Frustraited confusion returned. The hunter couldn't perceive the concept of a rocket-propelled wheelchair.

He blinked again, rushing to the window, watching as the pickup truck pulled away, picking up speed. From what he could see, there were two dark forms in the truck's cab. His eyes widened and a sharp curse was issued from off the tip of his tongue. _They got away_. The Sire was going to be pissed, if and when he finds out.

The unspoken key word was _IF_ he finds out. It was time to make a phone call and try to slow the truck down when they pass through the next town, if he could.

* * *

**The four of them**, Murray, Sly, Carmelita and Karla made their way through the snow, heading towards a prospective safe-house, just a few blocks away. Bentley suggested about 10 full city blocks but Sly was in favor of something as close as possible with the cold. Icy rooftops would make treacherous travel, for sure. 

Really, the snow was rather beautiful. It layered things in a fresh powdery blanket. It killed germs. It absorbed sound so well that they were surrounded by silence in every direction. It was all consuming, causing the night to feel as though it was suspended in a moment of temporary pause. It fell over the freshly plowed streets, covering the ever-lightly-present tracks left by the group as they passed through the dark avenue.

From the sound swallowing silence, even the ears of the Master Thief didn't pick up the approach of a group of business-clad men. All four henchmen were dressed the same: Black three-piece suite, long coat and leather gloves. They were stocky like a large dog species, but with the face of a wolf. Their footsteps were unheard and their shoulders were painted in that flawless pearl powder.

Murray glanced over his shoulder and his eyes widened. "Sly!" The other three glanced behind themselves, watching the men approach. Murray pounded his right knuckles into his left palm. "They can't be allowed to follow us, we've got to stop them," He mumbled with the narrowing of his eyes.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Carmelita said, taking a long, slow breath, shaking her head. "We've got our work cut out for us; these guys look mean."

One of the men up front held a paw up, causing the other three to pause. "You know," Said the half-wolf half-dog, who was slightly taller than the other three. He continued, adding, "Every white crystal that flutters from this sky is like a frozen teardrop. Or, more accurately, the chilling ashes of a loved one, lost. Some people thought of Donovan Loupe as invincible. His death, however, is more than some simple insult; his death is the significant, symbolic sign of a change in these modern times."

The first man on the leader's right, added, "While astonished that a rag-tag band of motley misfits could bring Mister Loupe to his death, don't feel that it cannot or will not go un-avenged."

"Great," Sly said, shaking his head. "One goes down; four more poseurs pop up in his place. Let's show these guys what we think about rude followers and get on with it; I'm freezing my tail off!"

"I'm never going _any_where without my gun, _ever_ again, I swear," Carmelita groused, half-crouching into an offensive position. Karla raised her paws, causing one of the half-lupine men in the back of the group to vanish and reappear directly in front of Carmelita and Murray. Both of them quickly threw punches to knock the first man off his guard. He stumbled back, surprised.

Another man ran towards Sly but Karla teleported him across the empty intersection, so that he reappeared just inches from a wall, slamming into it, in full sprint. "Throw a punch, Murray," She said, forcing the second attacker to vanish again and reappear in front of Murray's drawn fist. The hippo threw his weight into the punch, clocking the man as soon as he reappeared, knocking the well-dressed half-wolf clear across the intersection.

"How'd you do that?" Murray asked, drawing his fists up to be in a ready stance again.

"I'll explain later, just fight!" Karla exclaimed. She teleported the first man she'd picked on at the beginning of the fight, so that he was two hundred feet in the air, then released him back into linear time-space, causing him to plummet back to the ground. "Heads up, look out; _It's Raining Men!_" She exclaimed.

"_REAL_ funny," Carmelita muttered, dodging the body that slammed into the snowy asphalt. The vixen leapt up, landing on the back of the fallen attacker's head, then bounded off of it, pouncing the next enemy attacker in line. It was 'go time', and the fight was on.

The combat lasted several moments and it was quickly turning into a stalemate. Sly took a few punches and even Murray was knocked to the ground at least once. Carmelita was holding her own, but all that mattered was that they were getting no where further into this fight. Finally, Karla just teleported the three protagonists out of the area, placing them into the next block down. She then went to work against the four remaining men.

Sly glanced around, somewhat confused. He stood back to back with Murray and Carmelita stood a few feet away. The entire group had been super-naturally transported to the next intersection over. Plump flakes of snow danced around them. Silence returned. Carmelita narrowed her eyes, turning to Sly and Murray. "I don't trust her. She might be in league with them."

"You're the most untrusting person I know," Sly chuckled. "Let's get out of here. Let _her_ find us. I'm not going to be heart broken over a smaller team." He waved a paw in the direction they were originally heading. There was no time to waste, he wasn't worried about Karla; she could handle herself, or so it seemed.

"She's managed to teleport the whole team," Murray said, surprised about someone who had such an ability.

"Yeah, man," Sly chuckled awkwardly. "Third time this week and it's only Tuesday. Let's go, gang."

"She's been in league with them the whole time up to this point," Carmelita groused, following two thirds of the Cooper gang through the snowy street. It was time to set up shop, that was for sure. They found the decomissioned residental place, making their way passed the lock and into the abandoned apartment building.

Carmelita and Sly were left to figure out how to get the building's central-air heater working while Murray was given the task of rearranging rubble on the top floor, so they would have room to stretch out, let alone having room for whatever sort of equipment Bentley might be bringing.

* * *

**The pickup truck shuttered. The wheel was shaking and the frame was rattling** under the intense speed that 5th gear would allow. The needle shuttered at the verge of 160 kilometers per hour (100 Miles per hour). It was exactly double the speed of the posted sign they zipped passed, which read 80KPH with a circle around it. 

"I hope we don't have to come to a sudden halt," Penelope mused softly, glancing over her shoulder, then bringing her gaze back to the road ahead of them. The snow was keeping other drivers off the highway but thankfully the road was a straight highway, no major turns.

"PRAHA (A/N: _Chezh for "Prague"_)80km. We're 50 miles out of the city," Bentley said easing into the brakes to make a right, up ahead, as they passed through the highway system over the town of Karlovy Vary. Bentley eased back into the accelerator, until the truck was shaking again.

At this speed, they were now looking at an estimated arrival time of 20 minutes. "I'm rather surprised, we've not passed one law enforcement vehicle," Penelope mused thoughtfully.

"Don't jinks us," Bentley muttered, glancing into his rear view mirrors. He was the last person to believe in such nonesense but it wasmeant to break the tension.

"Why, Bentley, I've never known you to work with anything but probability," She noted, offering a slight smile.

The turtle glanced into his mirrors again, keeping the accelerator on the floor. "The probability of having something like that happen is too much to talk about until we've arrived… if, you know, if you don't mind. I'm just nervous, traveling at this speed."

"We could always slow down; I'm not suggesting that, of course," the mouse offered a slight smile.

"At this rate of speed, we _should_ be making good time," Bentley repeated. But only time would tell. The thing is, time decided it wanted to tell them all too soon. Up ahead, Bentley spotted a road block and beyond, he could make out the shape of half-a-dozen men. As he grew closer, he could tell they were wearing black ties, dress jackets and long-coats. "I may not believe in the ability to jinks oneself, but I really feel like I should have kept my mouth closed," He said, turning to her, easing into the brakes and downshifting.

"This doesn't look very good," She admitted, straining against her seatbelt to lean forward, squinting at the blockade up ahead. "But I have an idea…."

* * *

**The sniper rifle seemed to gleam in the midnight lighting** of the nearest lamppost, outside the window. The shot would require skill but this man had just that: Talent and a steady paw. Sly Cooper stepped into the targeting reticule and Carmelita turned to face him in a confronting manner, so that both of them were lined up. Two kills with one high calibre round. 

The bullet was in the bolt-action chamber and a finger came to touch the trigger. It was time to put an end to them both. The trigger was touched and a furry digit began to add pressure when suddenly a footstep was heard in the same room and the gunner's ears perked. He glanced up with only his peripheral vision when a bright bolt of pure electricity lanced free of an extended paw, from across the room.

The lightning arced across the small dwelling, slamming into the Sniper Rifle, which caused all 5 rounds to burst, completely blowing off the gunner's right paw, leaving him with a grizzly stump of rinded flesh. The half-wolf's jaw dropped in horror, shuttering involuntarily.

The shady man approached the quivering gunner, touching his own paw to the half-breed wolfdog's own bloody stump of a wrist, using the same lightning discharge technique, this time to cauterize the wound. A pair of lips brushed against the shocked gunner's ear, causing the animal to flinch.

"They… are… _mine_," Replied the Reaper in a soft, deep tone. His words had an aloof sort of tone to them, when spoken so calmly as this. The well-aged looking badger drew a clawed fingertip slowly beneath the chin of the Wolfdog, then kissed the man's cheek. It was the show of an overly French custom.

His slender, pointed snout ended a swirl of white and black, with an almost contrasting, carnation pink nose. He cut his gaze towards the window, then back to the gunner, who was quaking. The badger simply narrowed his eyes and the Wolfdog cringed, backing away from the remains of the sniper rifle, which had a ruptured chamber.

"Sire's people pay handsome disability. You just lost your life's trade so you'll be able to retire early. You should thank me," Reaper mused thoughtfully, then pointed towards the door. "I wish to commandeer this window. Fare-thee-well, good sir." It was the gunner's cue to leave and he did so with great haste, favoring his blood-covered wrist, which was still smoldering at the stump.

A wisp of smoke rose gently above the sniper rifle. Reaper's eyes lowered to the object, frowning upon it. He lifted his right paw and a bolt of raw lightning energy surged against his padded palm. It took on a mystical formation of shape until he was holding an illuminated beam that resembled a farming scythe; the very weapon for which the Grim Reaper was so famous. It was thus from where 'Reaper' got his name.

The scythe was brought down, cutting the rifle into halves. It dropped harmlessly to the floor, with a _thud_ of the handle and a _ker-thunk_ of the front end's pieces. The scope rolled across the floor, coming to a stop by a chair. This weapon would now be silenced forever. "They are mine," He repeated softly, turning back to the window.

"Are they really?" Came a soft, dulcet voice. Her wily tones caused Reaper to smirk, looking up and seeing her reflection in the window. He offered a dramatic pause then glanced over his shoulder with a casual air. He grinned, recognizing Karla Chintzy as it was impossible to forget the name of a woman who looked like _her_. She replied to his expression with a grin of her own, adding, "Missed me, killer?"

"Even a man who's not interested in sex is charmed by your presence," Reaper mused thoughtfully. "How are Steven and the Sire, my dear?"

"I didn't realize they'd be bringing you in, Nathaniel Carrington," She said to the Badger, making sure to use his full real name, which had not been spoken in more than 14 decades. Ironically, she was the last to use it, at that.

"I didn't realize you would be Sly Cooper's keeper," Reaper mused, followed by a moue of disgust which came across his face, upon hearing his name aloud. Nathaniel meant "Gift From God", which was a far cry from his natural abilities to murder. He simply waved his paw at her in a dismissing manner then his body began to glow.

His eyes were the first to incandesce, followed by a glow that seemed to pour out of his mouth. His fingertips shimmered and light poured out of his nose, ears and from within the recesses of his body. Without further warning, the body mutated into a beam of electricity and arced upwards, leaving a burn mark in the ceiling. Karla narrowed her eyes, shaking her head slowly.

"Don't you _dare_ teleport away from ME!" She growled softly, bowing her head slowly. Her body faded then reappeared upon the roof. She stood directly behind the assassin, folding her arms. "That was beyond rude, Carrington."

"I have but one name now," Said the badger, keeping his back to Karla and his eyes on the apartment a few blocks away. "You think I could hit the open window from here and destroy that apartment inside out? I've never aimed for something the size of a window from ten blocks before," He chuckled in an almost playful manner.

"We've not received the diamond pendant from them yet; they cannot die," She snapped. "You're here to ensure the Sire isn't killed but they are too important to die just yet," She muttered, narrowing her gaze. "So stop thinking about it; I know murder is the only thing that gets your dick hard," She added, folding her arms across an ample bosom. The added stress to her tight shirt and un-zippered jacket helped to portray that canyon of cleavage but it did nothing to tease the badger.

"Watch your mouth, Female. And I thought you were lady-like," Replied the ever-enigmatic Carrington, whose eyes seemed to hold a controlled static charge within the pupils.

"Your attacks will blow my cover," Karla grumbled, walking to the edge of the roof. Snow surrounded them; flakes were as numerous as stars in the sky on the clearest of nights. The rooftops that led from the building where they were at, to the building where Sly and his friends were making base, averaged about a story shorter than the current location of Karla and Reaper.

The badger's eyes were transfixed to Cooper's apartment. The gritty rooftops resembled a sea of black diamonds, shimmering in the night. As the snow fell, covering these rooftops, each wave of raven jewels slowly became white, pure, fresh and new. Finally Karla shook her head and said, "It's cold tonight. Don't cross me, I'm working here. Back down."

"My next attack will be against the entire group; you included. It will ensure your 'cover' story, Miss Chintzy," Said the badger with an eerily gentle voice. "I'll _try_ not to kill _all _of you, dear. But I can make no promises."

"I have to find the diamond pendant for _Sire_," She reminded, trying not to show her frustration. "I'll give you a sign if it's necessary. Your mission, right now, is to ensure Sire is safe. See to it," She demanded.

"Admit it," The badger asked of her. "I want you to tell me the truth: that seeing me has thrown a wrench into your plans to work for Sire, seduce Sly Cooper _and_ get his stupid family diamond. You trifling little Jezebel," he sneered. "You can't always have your cake and eat it, too."

"Jealous you can't have me, even if you wanted me?" She said with a smirk. "Hell, Nathaniel, even if something _other_ than death could give you a rise, I doubt you'd care to experience it."

"Be gone, wench. You sicken me. I've had enough disgust for one evening. Click your pretty little heels three times and disappear, please," Reaper demanded.

"You're not invincible," She replied, approaching the assassin and dropping her arms to her sides. Her eyes raked over his masculine visage, noting the length of his hair that clung to the breath of wintry wind, dancing like a ballerina who clung to a note of song carried by the seasonal gale.

He turned his head to glare at her but she was already gone by the time he cast his gaze to check.

* * *

**Sly turned away from Carmelita**. They'd just had another curt argument about how to make an advance on someone like Sire, when in the field. As soon as Sly turned away, his pupils shrank, taking in the form of Karla, the half-breed fox-cat. He could only offer a flirty grin and a shrug. "How long have you been standing there, listening to this bickering?" 

"It doesn't matter," Karla explained, causing Carmelita to turn about and Murray to stop what he was doing and glance over at the return of the 'pretty lady'. Chintzy shook her head slowly and shrugged slightly, rolling her shoulders forth. "We have a problem. Something happened that I never anticipated; Sire brought in The Big Guns…" She trailed off, shaking her head once more, offering a flat sigh, laying her ears back. "He's a big problem, don't ask; he's bad news, period."

* * *

A/N: _DUN __DUN DUNNNN! So, guys and gals, should Karla BE a good guy or be a bad guy, in the end? Let me know! ……And wow, a physical manifestation of a lightning bolt Scythe? Pretty scary huh? How much further before Steven the Skunk finishes Clockwerk's repair? Will Bentley and Penelope arrive in time? Will they arrive at all, considering the fact that they're nearly surrounded by the bad guys…? Will Sly and Carmelita work things out the way they had managed to do when he faked amnesia to become her Constable? Now she knows he left to 'return to his ways', will she ever trust him again? Can you believe I wrote over 9 more pages again:D I coulda' gone further but I wanted to get this update up before Christmas because I'm going to Tennessee this weekend to see my second son, Thomas, who just turned two in September! (There's a picture of him on my DeviantArt website, under the user name CreatedFromPain. Word) Later! _

_-kit_


	10. Civil Politics gone wrong?

A/N: _thank you guys for your input on Karla. It's good to get feedback from the readers to ensure they're reading what they want to be reading. I see someone responded to the research I usually GOOGLE for chapters, like just how far of a commute by truck, distance and time-wise, to get to Prague and what it would be called on the Republic road signs. Yadda. Also, I'd like to thank all of you ridiculously hot female readers. It's inspiring to know that the ladies who read my stories have porcelain faces that would make Barbie turn green with envy. I wrote this chapter's beginning to "The Moonlight Sonata." Wolfgang Mozart rocks like that. Dark, slow and somber. The second part, starting with Carmelita got Bon Jovi and the fight scenes got Daft Punk. Did any one notice that I had Bentley driving a clutch and yet he's a paraplegic? Oops. Plothole. No neurotherapy involved, lol. Let's just say his legs are beyond the capacity to carry him but his feet and ankles have some slight measure of mobility still …… Pro!

* * *

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Chapter 10: Civil War Politics

**When the structure weakens and the center cannot hold, the bottom drops out**, leaving a gaping hole. No matter how much work you put into climbing out of the hole and no matter how close you are to the top, if you relax for even a moment, you stand the chance to tumble back to the bottom. All your hard work starts from the beginning and the hole, the most uncaring object of all, swallows you up once more.

This was an endless cycle of repetitive, overly perpetuated loops that became the first logical, conscious thought of Clockwerk, rebuilt. The eyes began to glow, shifting slightly from left to right with the softest of whirring noises. The lenses retracted until the skunk's visage came into focus.

"You realize that you cannot exist without me to rebuild you," Steven said softly. "I've not finished your body yet. I've rebuilt you from owl to machine, a very long time ago and with modern technology creating assembly line parts, I've designed a better you, this time. You remember Sire? Blink once for 'no', blink twice for 'yes'."

The orange-hued optical manifold closed one slow time, after a pause, it closed a second time, slowly, then re-opened. Steven gave a slight smile. "He's still in charge. I'm glad to see the hard drive transfer of data preserved your past memories. I've updated your brain, because now we live in a world where I can build something to co-process your thoughts, instead of simply preserving your brain inside of a metal body. Do you comprehend thus far?"

The mechanical eyes, sitting upon the workstation table blinked twice again. Steven nodded slowly. "Sire… Hath he not ordered thee to do that which thou didst not wish, quite often?" The skunk spoke the way he once spoke, when originally building Clockwerk, so many centuries ago. His modern day speaking may have evolved but he carried his past with him, keeping it close to his heart.

"When Sire makes such use of said abilities, he may not hold power over thee or thine, however, he holdth power over legions; striking him down becomes impossible," Steven mused softly, adding, "Furthermore, vexing such a man as he? At the cost of our enemies, befriending such a man was in mine interest. Know, thou, that thy days as a pawn… they are numbered, my prince."

Clockwerk, in pieces, listened intently. Steven's promise of bringing him to the other end of the metaphorical Chessboard of life was a truly sweet pledge. Steven continued, "Then the two of us, we are in an accordance, yes my dear boy?" He remembered Clockwerk as a young man; an Owl with ambition. The past never died until the day it became forgotten. "Thine heart shall beat true again. Not only with hate, but with empathetic understanding of thy enemies. Know their reasons for their every move. Know them and thou may crush thy foes. Smite them or be cleft in twain yet once more. Thy survival is upon thy brow. Remember this well, for thy days as Lazarus may be at a conclusion. War may take mine life in the near future."

Steven lifted the eyes into his paws, drawing them close to his chest for a moment before carrying them from the bench to a wheel cart. The magnetically shielded processing component was eased onto the cart behind the eyes. The self-recycling power cell, state of the art and completely different than the self-winding clockwork components that ran his body for nearly a millennium, was eased into a section of the cart behind the eyes and braincase.

"Know, thou, that Sire contacted Reaper?" Steven continued the conversation with Clockwerk's internal components, while loading them from the wheel cart to a makeshift elevator that lifted him up to the empty head casing. There would be welding and bolting to be done, so that he could last through the test of time, incase the builder didn't survive the upcoming war. "I have foreseen a mighty clash; thou canst not be allowed to parish; mine life's work, greatest achievement. Karla Chintzy plays both sides for the middle. I fear she holds an ulterior motive beyond mine knowledge, Clockwerk. Know that I hardly remember thy name as a Mortal Owl, I do apologize."

The elevator lifted the man upwards, carrying his gear with him. He moved up into the head, hooking the welding tool upon his belt, starting with the eyes. It was the first component. The brain and battery were attached to a cable that would go in, next. And now, time was of the essence, for everyone.

* * *

**Carmelita drew her fist back, ready to strike Karla** across the face if it came to that. "I've lost my job and quite possibly my career over your actions. My service and tenure, my office? I'm a good Inspector; I've solved murders that have been under investigation for years before they were handed to me!" She exclaimed. "That job is my life," She growled softly. "And if you take him from me, I'll have lost the two things I hold most dear to me, by the Maker, you'd better stay away from that man," She warned the half-breed Felox.

Karla set her jaw firmly, lowering her eyes for a moment before glancing away. "I'm not interested in Sly out of Obsession. I respect your passionate fixation; just don't let it consume you so much that it turns into mania."

"And I don't trust you, Karla," Carmelita said plainly. "I think you're in league with this Sire Guy. You can't say no to him; you can't _not_ serve him. You're his puppet, whether you serve willingly or not."

"You were a puppet of your government. You've been freed," Karla snapped, narrowing her eyes at the vixen. The two were about to go toe-to-toe in another moment, quickly allowing their emotions to escalate. "Tell me why you obsess for a man you're supposed to capture? Physical attraction? If you can't put looks beyond your job, you're nothing more than a lusty skank, consumed by one of the seven deadly sins."

"You don't understand our past," Carmelita mused, her fist still quivering; she was ready to unleash it, any moment. "I'll strike you down in a moment, Half-breed. We shared a great deal together, as Constable Cooper. He helped me steal the guns from my enemies and we would do busts together that earned me critical praise from the Chief." Carmelita sighed softly then told the other woman, "That may be over now, but Sly and I attended the police ball together, we were incredible agents, together."

"I care not about your history," Karla grumbled softly. "He has something I need. The sooner I get it, the sooner I'll be out of your hair. You've lost everything; don't lose your male, too."

Carmelita narrowed her eyes, shaking her head slowly. "Back down, woman. I may have lost everything but I'm not dead." She scowled, half-storming out of the room for a moment, pacing through the doorway and back.

Karla debated for several minutes to throw something else into Carmelita's face. Where she'd decided, in the past, not to do it, she decided now that it had to be done. "If you think your nightmares about Clockwerk are over because you're here, safe with Sly, then you are wrong. Mark my words: Steven is creating a Clockwerk to give the hardened soul nightmare-scarring for life." She then vanished, leaving not a trace of her form behind.

Carmelita paused in mid step, glancing back to where Karla stood, previously. She snarled softly, causing a curl to come to her upper lip, which peeled back to show a gleaming hint of fang. "Bitch," She muttered under her breath, trying not to attract attention from the other room, where Sly and Murray were doing a physical warm-up together.

* * *

**The truck rolled to a stop**. Bentley and Penelope watched as the Wolfdog soldiers moved to surround the half-ton pickup truck. "This could be bad," Bentley muttered, reaching back and opening the window to the back of the truck's cab. Light frost had already covered the bags and gear. While it had never undergone a frozen field test, Bentley knew it was his only option. Penelope helped him, knowing that he was struggling as it was, using his legs on the clutch and driver peddles; climbing through the back window would be three times the chore.

Bentley pulled himself up to the window using his hands. Penelope placed her paws at the bottom of his shell to heave him forward, through the square window that took him to the truck bed, where the snow-covered bags laid, waiting. He gripped the gear, dragging his belly across the light coating of frost that had collected in the truck's bedding.

Suddenly a gunshot was heard, ripping through the front windshield and lancing out through the back. The glass cracked and a few tiny shards fluttered down, around his body, repelled by his shell. Due to the laminated film inside the windshield, neither the front nor back window completely crumbled.

Penelope dropped down beneath the dashboard. Another gunshot slammed into the front of the truck, causing the airbag to deploy on the driver side, which sounded like a drummer cracking a rim-shot on his snare, as loud as he possibly could. The bag deployed at its usual 210 miles per hour, filling the truck with a layer of thin dust.

The white-furred mouse coughed softly over the powdery dust, covering her mouth with a paw. Bentley glanced back over his shoulder but he knew he had to keep going. He snatched the drawstrings of one bag, working the knot open. It loosened enough to reach his paw into the bag but not to get it all the way open. Finally, growing frustrated, he reached into the bag and groped about until he found a control panel attached to the object within.

Finally, his fingertips grazed the button then the turtle quickly drew his arms and head into his shell. His legs no longer retracted the same way, but they were out of the way. The bag began to tear and a set of metallic legs began to erupt from the bag. Another gunshot ripped through the truck, slamming into the object, which caused the round to deflect out into the open air.

Another ricochet 'tinged' off of the metallic legs that lifted to their proper size. He pulled himself towards it, pressing a toggle switch on the ankle. It half collapsed and he pulled himself into the cradle at the top of it. Snatching the toggle switch from the ankle and pulling it into his shell, on the end of a wire, Bentley started the lifting process.

His body, shell and all, was lifted up and the legs became an addition to his lower body, acting as if it were a replacement. Another gunshot ripped into the cold night air, piercing out against the dullness of a frost enshrouded world. Bentley leaned forward, placing his tiny hand against the top of the truck roof, then the metallic legs kicked over, as if hurdling the rest of the truck and landing on the snow-covered ground, directly in front of the truck's headlights. His shadow was cast out, standing long and tall, reaching all the way to the attackers causing the blockade.

The gun firing stopped for a moment as the 6 men gave pause to size up this new threat. Bathed in the shadow of Bentley, standing inside of his metal leg contraption, most of them were actually _awe_d into silence. The tortoise made his approach, taking the silence as his chance for attack.

One of the Wolfdog's opened fire again. Bentley's left leg, before he even thought to move, came out from underneath of him, literally kicking the bullet from its intended course. The redirected lead round slammed into the snow, causing a burst of powder to splash about the impact zone.

Two more shots were fired and Bentley's body was jostled, feeling the legs do a sudden double kick, knocking both bullets from the air, one of them having been returned in the direction it came. To Bentley's surprise, the bullet took a gun from the paw of one of the gunners. It obviously impressed the attackers because they took a recess from their offensive, once more.

One of the Wolfdogs, the one who had his paw nearly taken off, knelt down in the snow, putting his paw into the ice. Another one knelt besides him, to help. It was obvious that they were an efficient team of Mercenaries, trained in a military style of operation procedure.

Bentley continued forward, fueled by his new legs. He now stood 7 inches taller than her normally stood, running towards his enemies at full speed. The legs extended, vaulting him forward into a loose somersault. He now towered 3 feet above the Wolfdogs, with overly lengthy legs. One of the offenders lifted their gun but Bentley kicked it clean out of the man's hand.

He lifted his other leg, at the knee, which retracted at the ankle, becoming shorter in length. It then extended once more, so that he was able to literally step on another attacker's gun, stomping it out of the man's paw, and into the snow. Followed by that maneuver, the Turtle reflexively used his brain signals, sent through his spine, into his leg, to cause the Metal Leg to rush upwards. It knocked a third Wolfdog back, from a swift kick to the chin.

Bentley shifted his shoulders, instinctually using the legs to pivot. They did the rest, swinging one leg out, which caught two other attackers in their heads with a powerful roundhouse. It knocked two more men to the ground, leaving only the man who was initially injured with a bullet in his paw. Bentley leaned forward, grabbing that man by his head-fur, bringing up a metal knee into his muzzle.

The man was knocked flat to the ground and Bentley responded by reaching up to push his glasses up over his beak-shaped nose, then sneezing. Such a hardcore display of action attacks, followed by such a nerdy sneeze and readjustment of his glasses had one of the remaining Wolfdog soldiers, balking in confusion. How did his friends just get whipped by a nerd?

Within another moment, all 6 of them were laid out, flat on the ground. He dashed back to the truck, leaving square footprints in the snow, in his wake. The remote control that he'd wire-fed into his shell had now been plugged into his skin, temporarily integrating itself with his body. He stepped into the truck, to Penelope's surprise, without help.

She peered up over the dashboard, now that the shooting had stopped, and blinked, seeing half a dozen men, laying flat in the snow. "You'd have taken the convention by storm in that; how did you deflect the bullets?" She asked, blinking at the way they retracted in size, to allow him to comfortably sit in the truck's driver seat.

The turtle blushed with a slight chuckle. "It's built with a high end, low-bottlenecking processor. It has the ability to second guess and react. I've not had a chance to test it very much and I'm really scared that someone will have the ability to confuse it and it'll put me on my butt, but so far so good!" Bentley explained in that nasal voice he was ever so famous for.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that!" Penelope exclaimed, reaching to help him push the remains of his post-deployed airbag beneath the steering wheel, so that he could climb into the truck. "I've brought one of my Remote Control gadgets for use if things get sticky but it's not every day that I have bullets flying at me. Let's hurry!"

"Driving a clutch should be a breeze with auto-intuitive mechanical legs," Bentley said, reaching for the shifter knob.

"Did you even break a sweat, fighting them off?" Penelope asked, still shocked at his incredible display of bionic-augmentation combat.

"N…not really, no. I was a little worried about being that close to a bunch of guns," Bentley told her, adding, "I'm not the kind of guy who runs into combat like that and it was a real thrill," he said with an awkward chuckle, reaching up to push the glasses back up his nose again.

* * *

**Clockwerk was more digital, less analogue**, now. His hulking frame was now undergoing heavy duty welding work, creating his upper body's firm frame, now. Steven was halfway inside the gut, working on ensuring that nothing would shift, ever. Clockwerk lifted his right arm, flickering his talons in front of his eyes.

An internal speaker system relayed conversation between himself and Steven. It's rare he held conversation to begin with. "Killing Sire helps us how?" Clockwerk asked, trying to ascertain his re-creator's motives, to see if he should pick and choose sides or veer away from this building interior war, all together.

"He's using you as a pawn and while I am his closest friend," Steven said, sighing softly, "I, too, am nothing more than a mere pawn. We must stand for ourselves. We cannot allow ourselves to be run about like soldiers. We're immortal; we should extend ourselves and our infinince (A/N: _I made that word up, from infinite. Aren't I clever? j/k) _into world changing abilities, like politics and shifting society to our whim like the ebb and flow of a tide."

"I don't quite see the world in shades of gray like you," Clockwerk mused softly. "It's not so much world conquest on my mind, as having my nitch in the black market, running things without bringing enough attention to myself to be brought down with a nuclear bomb."

"If you had aspirations of World Domination," Steven said, pausing to quickly concentrate on a spot-weld, then going on to say, "It would have happened hundreds of years ago, when you were the only technology of the time. Instead, your simple mind of the past had only one driving motivator: vengeance. Revenge amounts to the weak minded, my friend." The skunk placed his paws on the service hatch, pulling himself from within Clockwerk's upper body. "Remember, if they come into the room, close your eyes. Let them think you're not ready yet."

"Very well," Clockwerk muttered, closing off his interior speaker system. Just as the door opened at the other end of the lab, the mechanical Owl's eyes fluttered shut and Steven sat up on a board leading into the hatch, rubbing his paws into a cloth sham.

Sire walked into the room, coming through the rows of metallic shelves that held machine parts, coming to stand before the hulking upper half of Clockwerk, which had been assembled, now touching the ceiling and the ground, evenly. "Where's his bottom half?" Sire finally asked, after taking in the splendid glory of the massive upper half.

"Boxed in pieces. It won't take forever, I assure you," Steven said, sliding down the board and standing up. His large, fluffy tail rose up behind his back, curling at the tip, behind the back of his head. His bright, intelligent eyes bore into Sire's presence, looking the lion over for a moment. "You've cleaned up since being attacked, haven't you? Splendid. Would you like to help?" Steven already knew how Sire would answer before asking the question but it was all psychology at this point.

"Unfortunately, my friend," Sire said, looking down a bit. Steven snuck a grin, looking away to that Sire wouldn't see it. "I am unable at this point. I can't lower my guard by distractions. When lives are at stake, one must be on their toe-claws, you know?"

"Oh, quite so," Steven nodded in agreement. "Forgive me, I should have thought of that and not asked; I realize you're quite busy."

Sire smiled awkwardly. The skunk was supposed to be a genius, after all. "I'm sure you're just tired from being so busy, I know I'm working you pretty hard, Steven."

"Well I'd better get back to work," The skunk said with a smile, leaning to pat Sire's cheek softly. "See you soon, my British Friend."

"See you soon, my American Counterpart," Sire said, walking across the room, pausing to glance over his shoulder, first at Steven, then to Clockwerk's silent, hulking frame, still partially in pieces.

Once Sire left the room, Steven turned back to his re-creation and shook his head slowly. "_That_ idiot is the tired one," the skunk said, narrowing his eyes. "He knows I have a hyper-kinetic metabolism and I don't require sleep unless I'm just that bored."

"Obviously, he's in error. Let's hope he's not playing us for fools in the same respect. I've thought about this; I'll back you. From what I understand, Sire still wants the stupid Diamond from Cooper. I just want Cooper dead, this diamond means _nothing_."

"Indeed," Steven replied, crawling back into Clockwerk's belly with the welding gun and a pair of goggles. "It will begin soon enough. You should now have full mobility of both of your arms. Use your talons and tear off the top of those crates. I want you to assemble your legs while I finish this conduit casing."

* * *

**Carmelita sat down on a beat up sofa, drawing an old wool blanket** up over herself. She _was_ exhausted from lack of sleep as of lately; Sly suggested she rest but she was reluctant at first. Karla was on the first floor, using her ability of teleportation to rearrange various objects. Murray was relaxing in a way that only Murray could relax… he was dancing to a 'borrowed' Ipod, while Sly was pacing. The weather was getting worse and the Binoc-u-com was still out of range to communicate with Bentley.

"They should have been here by now," Carmelita overheard Sly say to himself, just outside the door to the room she was in. The lights were out and she shifted her weight, trying to get comfortable on the sofa, but the wool blanket was making it that much more difficult.

She kept her eyes shut, trying to will herself to sleep. Her brain was swirling with worry that things would go wrong or that she'd lost her job. Worst of all, she was afraid of having another nightmare if she did sleep. But eventually, her exhaustion made it possible.

_Carmelita Montoya Fox stood on a dark field filled with ashes from one end to the other. Skeletons and rotting flesh were all that remained of the various bodies that were strewn about, all around her. She was alone. Or was she? _

_"Hello?" She called out; did she call out in her sleep or here, in this dream? She was face to face with Clockwerk and her heart stopped. She paused for a moment to gather her courage, then said, in an accusing voice, "You've done all of this haven't you?" _

_"This is the land of dead villains, Inspector," Clockwerk said in a voice that seemed unfamiliar. "We did this to ourselves. Do you see anyone you recognize among the dead?" His words made little sense to her but she glanced around, anyhow. _

_One of the bodies belonged to Donovan Loupe. She blinked her eyes then glanced back at Clockwerk, who looked quite stoic. The emotionless metal owl turned to look back at her, as if staring straight through her. She shook her head slowly, "Why have you tried to kill Sly every time I lay my head down?" _

_"I'll do it again and again," Clockwerk said with a sneer of promise. "That's what it means to be someone's Mortal Enemy, fool. However, look around and notice that this is a battlefield of villains against villains. Brothers of the dagger who betrayed only one another under the blade of their own knives. How you arrived here, I know not." _

_"Are you the real Clockwerk, in my head?" She asked. _

_"I am that which you cannot comprehend: Part of your darker side, your fears and your inner hate. This is how you personify me, little woman." The hulking metallic bird folded his winged arms, tapping a sharp talon against his left bicep. _

_"Okay, so if you're not the real Clockwerk, you aren't killing the real Sly Cooper and this is all a dream and I can wake up and you'll be gone," She said. _

_Clockwerk knelt to her level, gazed right into her face, and then smirked. "I've misjudged your concept of intelligence, mortal woman." _

_"I'm an inspector, not a meter maid," She snapped, angrily. "I may be emotional at times, but it doesn't mean I'm incapable of using my brain, you faux pretense." _

_Clockwerk lifted one hand and shoved her back. She fell to the floor, her eyes widening in shock that he was able to attack her, in her own dream. That was a first, ever. She blinked at him but upon flitting her eye lashes, he had disappeared in an instant. She glanced around herself and realized she was now alone, after all. _

_Her gaze lowered and her heart nearly stopped. Sire's empty, accusing glare looked up at her but he was long-dead. The flesh and meat had rotted off of his body, leaving only the head, which she recognized easily. _

_"Hello?" She called, half expecting the head to begin speaking to her. It didn't. Despite this being her dream, she still didn't have control over it. She knew she couldn't let it control her. _

_"Carmelita?" A voice cried out. She recognized it. She couldn't place the voice, but she knew it was urgent. The vixen quickly got to her feet then dashed off to follow the voice, which called out once more. Whose voice was it and why was it so familiar? Why couldn't she recall it? She didn't have those answers… she just knew she had to hurry. _

_"Faites-l'amour moi, Carmelita!" Called the voice. It made her blush furiously. It repeated the phrase, asking her to make love in her native language of French. _

_"Where are you?" She called out. Was it Sly? If so, why couldn't she place his voice. _

_"Où êtes-vous? Svp, aidez-moi!" It called in reply to her inquiry, first repeating her question back to her, then crying for help. She stopped running in the middle of the field of dead bodies and looked around, trying to listen with her ears. "Venez, sommeil sur mon côté, Carmelita Fox." _

_She blinked at the request, trying not to blush again. "Sleep on your side?" She asked, repeating the statement back in the form of a question. "What do you mean, ON YOUR SIDE?" _

_"Je suis un romantique désespéré. Je t'aime. Carmelita, Je t'aime!" The voice cried, telling her that he was a hopeless romantic, then swearing his love to her, not once, but twice. _

_"You love me?" She shouted incomprehensively. "WHO are you!" She demanded to the empty field of dead bodies. _

_The reply came almost immediately, telling her, "L'amour ne vous trahit jamais. Je ne vous trahirai jamais." She paused, hearing the voice. She slowly sank to her knees, shaking softly. The French was spoken with an elegance and refined dialect, telling her that Love never betrays her and that He, whoever he was, would never betray her, implying to her that this person truly did love her. _

_"Sly? Is that you, Sly?" She finally asked to the field of dead bodies. _

_"Confiance dans moi. Je ne vous nuirai jamais. Donnez-moi votre coeur," The voice asked of her in a pleading voice. The words took her by surprise, causing her jaw to drop. Her lower lip quivered gently and her heart beat harder in her chest. He asked her to have trust and confidence in him. He promised to never harm her and finally, asked for her heart to be given to him, openly_. She suddenly sat up in bed, wide awake. She simply blushed, looking around the dark room. Sly was nowhere to be found. She was alone. A few hours had passed, according to her wrist watch. Astoundingly, she felt VERY well rested.

* * *

A/N: _Okay so I wrote a lot today, at work. I usually don't write two chapters of the same story, back to back, and because I'm about to start driving 550 miles to see my second son, tonight, I didn't actually RE READ this story… so if there are ANY inconsistencies with wording or I put the word "the" in two times in a row, or something stupid like that… MY BAD. Hehe. _

_Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah! Happy Kwanzaa! Happy Holidays! See you guys after the weekend!_

_-Kit_


	11. The Butterfly Effect

A/N: _My third son was born December 29th, 2005 at 8:20pm. 18 inches, 6pounds, 22 days early. Tyler DeForest Carpenter-Weaver. Pro.

* * *

_

Chapter 11 "The Butterfly Spreads Its Wings."

**Carmelita rubbed her eyes with the back of her paws**. Her short nap proved to be a spirit lifter, as her mood had improved since her last argument with Chintzy. As the cloud of her dream lifted and her mind became clear again, she realized the man speaking to her in her dreams _was_ actually Sly Cooper. She wasn't actually sure why she couldn't remember his voice in the dream itself, however.

Memories of his words, recalling some of the lexis he'd said to her in the dream, caused her to blush. She'd never had a man simply, bluntly and yet so very romantically asked her to make love before and the thought sent shivers down her spine. It was a dream yet she wasn't about to let it run her life, either.

The door to her room was still shut and the lights were still off. There was a window on the facing wall; drapes were a pile of dusty cloth on the floor. For the most part, they were ruined from moths. The window let in just enough evening illumination to allow her to see and from what she could tell, the snow had tapered off for the moment.

Inspector Fox approached a grimy old mirror in the dimly lit room. She fluffed her hair with her fingers, eyeing the beauty mark upon her left cheek. She then lifted her chin, glancing down the length of her muzzle at herself. "You look like hell," She finally mused aloud. Indeed, in the dark, she did. Foxes possessed a natural ability to see in dim lighting. Their pupils were slitted in a vertical line, which allowed in more light, like a cat's eye.

While Karla Chintzy, being half cat and half fox, could probably see better in the dark than most, Sly was very capable as well, being a nocturnal raccoon. Carmelita continued to fluff her hair for another moment before simply shaking her head from side to side. She wasn't quite vain enough to try and fix anything this futile. She needed a shower and a fresh pair of clothes.

Some saw her as slightly narcissistic. Whenever Sly had stroked her feminine ego, whether she was conceited or not, the vixen would reflect on her looks at a later time. The thing is, she even let herself get to the point where she would come to work in red lacquered nails and tacky crimson lipstick. That came to an end once she and Cooper started a short relationship. She never went back to the bold makeup.

Constable Cooper… He was a short lived memory that occupied several months of her life. Was it even real? Perhaps it was a dream and her dreams were reality. She didn't want to think about it. She once had everything and now she had nothing but confusion, hurt and memories.

She felt that a relationship with him was futile; he would always go back to his thieving ways. Now, she was questioning herself over how true that statement really was. He left and by the time she caught up with him, he was quoting rumors of Clockwerk's return.

However, now she realized it was a realistic possibility. If what he had in his case-file was true, his family was haunted by that metallic freak. Laying the bird to rest a third and final time was something he needed to do to secure his future family, before settling down. She vaguely understood his reasoning for leaving so very suddenly. Was a future together a possibility?

The vixen was voracious for vengeance against those that caused her relationship to fail. She was beyond rapacious for revenge. No, Carmelita Montoya Fox wanted to see these evil doers laid to waste the way they were strewn about the battlefield in her last dream. She had to wonder if that's what the dream meant.

She felt sort of selfish; acquisitive, covetous, materialistic. She felt predatory; for the first time, she _felt_ as aggressive as her reputation had labeled her to be. The Inspector wanted to go in and finish this once and for all.

Carmelita knew no other way of getting everything settled. These were the criminals that took her job away from her. And the worst part of everything was, no matter how evil they were or how powerful they were… they were still just common criminals in the end.

She went for the door and turned the knob, stepping out into a slightly brighter room. Seeing Karla sitting on a sturdy looking shelf on the wall caused Carmelita to smirk. She muttered a plainly vituperative word beneath her breath, so that the cussword went unheard. Continuing through that room, she passed Murray who was still dancing to his less-than-purchased iPod.

In the final room of that floor, she stopped in front of Sly, offering him a slow nod. "What's the plan, Ringtail?"

Cooper's eyes flitted pensively about, returning to Carmelita and offering a weak smile. "Bentley is running late and I'm afraid we're running out of time to stop them from finishing Clockwerk. Feeling better?" He asked.

"Much," She replied with an assertive tone. Her firm retort told him that she was, indeed, feeling much better. She shrugged then asked, "What about you? You look tired, Cooper." He nodded, but gave no rebuttal. It caused a frown to mar her features slightly. "Do you need to rest, Sly?"

"No, I'm just worried," He finally admitted, turning back to a window on the corner of the building. "The snow is getting worse and I can't contact him via Binoc-u-com. I don't have a means to check the internet and see if his train was delayed and we can't afford to wait for much longer."

"He may be the brains of many operations but together, we're not stupid," Carmelita explained. She paused, perhaps for effect, then added, "We could work out some sort of proposition with the Czech Republic Government and level that building."

"I've got to say that I've noticed it takes some time for Governments to work up to that point," Sly chuckled dryly. "First they try diplomacy. But they don't even realize what sort of force is in that building to begin with. The rest of the world doesn't believe someone can manipulate shadows, teleport or that immortality is real."

Carmelita laid her ears flat for a moment before simply announcing, "Bentley will find a way here, if the train is delayed. If he's as smart as our criminal psych profile makes him out to be, he should be arriving soon." She turned, leaving the room, moving around the dancing Murray again.

In passing Karla, she narrowed her eyes and laid her ears flat once more, grumbling, "What're you looking at, lady?" In reply to her attitude, Karla simply smiled. Not just any smile, but more of a Cheshire grin was offered. Carmelita clinched her paws into fists, approaching the finicky Felox on the shelf, whose thick brush (A/N: _Brush is the technical name for a Fox's Tail_) was swishing to and fro. Before Carmelita could say something else, a bolt of pure energy lanced in through the window across the room, slamming into the wall between the girls.

Both were thrown to the floor hard. Karla was dazed and didn't teleport away, just yet. She brought her gaze to the burn mark in the drywall, where an exposed metal rod could be seen, glowing orange, with heat from the electrical charge. Sparks fluttered from the end of it, where an electrical socket used to be.

Carmelita noticed it too, then jerked her head away, to peer out through the window. "What the hell was that?" Asked Inspector Fox.

"Only one being known to mankind can throw a javelin made of lightning," Karla moaned.

"Zeus and Jupiter, Greek and Roman god of thunder?" Carmelita wondered aloud in a sarcastic reply.

"No," Karla growled softly. "The Reaper," She said, turning to face Carmelita who was still peering out through the window. "Stay down!" She hissed to the Inspector, causing the vixen to slide beneath the window, staying out of the line of fire.

"Friends of yours?" Carmelita grumbled.

"Hardly," Chintzy huffed, keeping low as well. "You're damn lucky I don't teleport out of here and save my own hide. Although… I'll do that if things get ruff," She promised, adding, "But if they do get bad, indeed, you guys are on your own. So do what I'm telling you to do and stay down." Karla sighed softly, muttering to herself about how this situation was now on the verge of getting out of control.

"This guy is pretty nefarious, Karla?" Inquired the ex-Inspector, staying flat on the floor, beneath the line of sight of the window.

"They call him The Reaper for a reason," Karla exclaimed, "He kills people and that's it. It's the end of the line. The only person who got close enough to attack him had decided to jam a sword into Reaper's chest. The man was electrocuted through the metal of the blade, as soon as it touched Reaper's body." Karla Chintzy paused and the half-breed shook her head slowly before continuing. "Being immortal, he used lightning to cauterize the wound. I guess he has no heart because that sword should have pierced it; I don't know how to beat him."

"Then it's time to learn until Bentley arrives to figure things out for us," Carmelita said, crawling across the floor, staying beneath the window line of sight, heading into the next room, towards Murray and Sly. It was time to warn them to get down without shouting, to attract attention, not knowing how far away this guy was. Who knew if he was only the next rooftop over, or something? Worse yet, Murray couldn't hear over the iPod headset.

Cooper, on the other hand, had not only heard the blast, but he saw the lightning bolt attack, as he'd been facing a window in the room further down the building. He, too, had dropped to the floor, crawling passed Murray in a windowless hallway, towards Carmelita. The hippo had his eyes shut, performing off-time dance steps and Sly thought it best he stay where he was, as it would be safe for the burley target.

"The Reaper has come for us," Karla muttered. Sly continued to slither across the ground, approaching both women, staying low. He came parallel to Carmelita, minus his cane and his hat. She turned to face him, looking like she expected him to belt out a plan.

"I've got something to tell you," Sly told her with a half smile.

"You've got a plan?" The vixen asked, expectantly. "What is it; can we beat this guy or what?" Before Karla could shoot down Carmelita's hopes of stopping such a foe, Sly said something to catch both women off guard.

"I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry for lying about my amnesia," He expressed in a thoughtful sort of manner. It made no sense. Here they were, getting lightning bolts thrown at them like the hand of a demigod itself, and he was speaking friendly to her, apologizing about something that made no difference at this point. Carmelita just blinked.

Sly's half-smile turned into an awkward sort of grimace. He felt like this was going down the wrong path and so he decided to try something a bit blunter for once. "I tried to talk to you while you were sleeping, and I sort of practiced what I wanted to say, but you were repeating things back to me all wrong and, for the first time ever, I got nervous… so I left. Anyhow, I'm sorry. I did it because I wanted to be with you and I left because I wanted to protect you."

"Sly… I," She paused, shaking her head then with an equal bluntness, replied, "I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything," He told her. "For once, it's the other way around and I just wanted you to listen. That said, with the truth out, I think we're ready to fight side by side. Something a little more personal than back at the café the other day. What'd'ya think?"

"I think I'm ready to fight side by side," She said. Karla rolled her eyes, crawling over to the two as another flash of energy lanced over her head, with a violent arc at the tip. The bolt was at an angle, meant to hit the three on the floor, but it curved at the end, upwards towards the wall, hitting the exposed metal pole that lead into the electrical line. The lights went out.

Even Karla Chintzy's breath had caught for a moment, followed by a sigh of relief once the metal conduit of a plainly exposed electrical socket had absorbed the flow of lightning current. "That was luck! Scatter, now!" She ordered. Carmelita rolled to the left and Sly went to the right, snatching his hat and cane from their resting place up against a wall nearby.

Karla, predictably, teleported into the room where Murray was, then teleported again, bringing Murray to another floor of the building, where he'd be safe. Using teleportation, she returned to the upstairs room, quickly zapping Carmelita and Sly to safety. From there, the gang was secured in a room with no windows.

Another explosive noise came from upstairs. Smoke began to pour out through the heat register and Karla narrowed her eyes in the darkness. She could see the thick film even through the inky void. "Get down. A fire has started upstairs; the smoke is coming in through the heating vents. Guess we'll have to relocate."

"Guess so," Sly muttered, tugging on Carmelita's sleeve as the two came to their feet. He approached Murray and tugged one of the headphone pieces out of the hippo's ear. "C'mon bud, we're under attack, hit pause and let's get out of here."

"Who's attacking us?" Murray said, blinking his eyes rapidly, seeing that the room was now dark and from the sound of his own voice, he knew he wasn't in a hallway anymore. "And where are we?"

"We're downstairs! If you didn't dance with your eyes closed, you'd know what's going on," Carmelita said, approaching him with her paws extended, pushing him towards the nearest door. "We've got to move. We're being attacked by some jerk that has more powers. I'm tired of seeing people with powers and I don't even have my gun; let's go."

"Some jerk?" Murray exclaimed, almost immediately ready to fight. "And don't feel bad Carmelita, I'm here without the van! I sure miss my van; what jerk is attacking us?" He asked, cycling through the topics like an attention deficit child.

"Yeah, Sire's assassin," Karla replied, coming besides Carmelita to push Murray towards the door. "Let's get out of here. Run now; talk later, let's go!" She said which Carmelita actually had to agree with.

The group headed for the stairs, moving down to the first floor. Carmelita groused softly about wasted time in having set up a safe house that was now under attack. Meanwhile, the rest of them kept relatively quiet. They ran through an old laundry room on the first floor. It was lined with washers and dryers that looked rusted out and useless, the emergency fire-detection auxiliary lighting was on in this room.

The coterie headed out through the door at the back, dashing into a snowy alleyway. To their surprise, an old pickup truck was there, waiting. Sly was the first to speak, exclaiming, "Bentley! Good timing, buddy! Everyone, get in the back, let's roll!" Murray snatched Carmelita and Karla around the waist in his arms then hopped up into the frost-shrouded bed liner.

"HIT IT!" Sly called, somersaulting into the back of the truck bed, wrapping his paws around the metal frame where the back window of the truck cab was still open. His paws clinched into the ice covered metal but his adrenaline kept him from feeling the bite of the cold just yet. The Truck lurched forward and Murray released Karla, using the free arm to grab Sly to secure the lightweight raccoon from flying off the back of the pickup.

"Gotcha lil' buddy," Murray bellowed over the truck's roaring engine. The pickup truck cut to the right, hard, causing everyone to shift to the left. Luckily, Murray allowed his body to be the one to hit the side of the truck bed; everyone else sandwiched up against his overly soft torso, so that no one was really squished.

The hippo hooked his right arm around Carmelita and Karla, keeping them pressed together, but ensuring that neither would go flying, then he used his left hand to pull Sly into the dog-pile. "Oof," Sly grunted, sandwiched up against the others, "Uh, thanks big guy. I think we're all safe now," He reassured Murray, whose grip loosened slightly, allowing Karla and Carmelita to breathe, finally.

The truck increased in speed, occasionally jerking to the left or right in anticipation. Bentley skillfully evaded the lightning strikes, which curved towards the occasional metal lamp posts for the most part. One came very close, however, slamming into a metal manhole cover, narrowly missing the old, rusted out Chevrolet.

"Why does he keep missing?" Sly shouted towards the square window in the back window of the pickup truck.

Penelope was quick to reply, leaving Bentley to concentrate on the road. "Because we're sitting on four rubber tires, so we're not as grounded as the objects that he IS hitting!" She called back, shouting over the roar of the Chevy's motor, which reacted to the accelerator that was mashed to the floor.

Bentley downshifted into second gear, which caused the truck to lurch forward again, increasing dramatically in speed. He was redlining the old pickup, which shuttered hard under the stress. The dashboard was rattling loudly from the demand that the pickup was under. The engine, however, responded reliably.

"Can't we go any faster?" Carmelita shouted, from where she was in the back of the pickup.

"Not without flipping us over, in this snow!" Bentley called back, adding, "Now let me drive, you guys!" Silence among the peanut gallery had resumed, leaving only the roar of the engine. Sly glanced up, seeing the building they had come from, fading into the distance. It was an orange blob now; the roof was in full flaming glory, lighting up the midnight sky like a beacon on the horizon.

The tortoise was clever, however. He knew something would come to an apex and only had once chance to use his next device, so he'd saved it during the ride here. The truck pulled into a loop, making a figure-eight around the block, avoiding the lightning strikes as best as possible. "He's eventually going to get lucky and hit us," Bentley mused aloud. Not that those in the back of the truck could hear him, but Penelope could.

"It _is_ probability," She added, causing Bentley to nod in agreement. He pulled the truck into a parking garage and quickly pulled into a parking space, immediately backing out of the space and pointing the truck towards the exit, the way they came in.

"Everyone, stay completely still out there," Bentley instructed through the back window of the truck's cab. "I'm going to engage a cloaking device that mirrors what's beneath us, so from his elevated position, all he sees is the ground. We're going to drive back over the road tracks we've already made, leaving him to believe we're staying in this building!"

Sly sat up, blinking rapidly. "Bentley, that's amazing!" He said, too impressed to say much more than that. Bentley reminded them to get down, stay low and not to move. It may have been cold in the back of the pickup truck but it was their only way of getting out safely. With Bentley being as clever as a fox, going back over his own track prints, they felt confident in their escape.

Murray was directed to hand the remaining duffle back through the open window into the truck cab. Penelope pulled the object out from the bag and handed it to Bentley, who placed the flat panel machine on the dashboard, running two wires into the old radio of the pickup truck. Once the grounding probes were attached, he pulled a zip-cord wire out of the machine and yanked several long feet of slack free.

Passing the last cable out through the back window, he handed it to Murray. "Now clip the end to the metal siding of the truck bedding," Bentley ordered. The hippo did so with haste. Then Bentley opened the driver side door, moved from the truck's driver seat, putting his metal legs on the ground.

The tortoise leaned into the pickup truck and reached for a cordless drill that was in the duffle. With a large attachment on the front, he began to drill a hole into the floor of the truck, avoiding the transmission box. "This mission's zenith is far from being in sight at this rate," Groused Bentley, garnishing no rebuttal.

Once the hole was facing down towards the ground, he pulled one last telescoping cable from the machine on the dash. Penelope was only too happy to help with this endeavor, and he ran the thick wire into the hole in the floor, so that the end of the cable hung beneath the truck. It was thicker than the other cables with a rounded lens on the end.

Bentley quickly drew out a piece of paper and a pencil, licking the tip before writing. "…And if Y Mx+b, the plot of interception should equate to Y being here. I would gauge one half mile," He noted to himself, projecting an angle of the slope from which the lightning bolts had been coming. "Mathematically, he's far enough away and at a steep enough angle that this should work!"

"I think we're all ready to believe in your machine," Carmelita said before Sly had the chance to do the same. Then she added, "But if you don't hurry, he's going to fry this building with _US_ inside of it! Impress us all you want, but will you hurry it up, already?"

Bentley adjusted his glasses, offering an awkward, lopsided sort of half-grin. "This is a fiber optic cable that is used to see the image of the ground beneath us," He explained for everyone. "Whatever is beneath the truck is projected upwards so it's a grainy form of stealth. Anyone approaching the truck at a close distance would see a heavily distorted blur and know where we are, but from wherever this guy is, at his distance, we'll blend in with the snow and the tracks in the snow that we've already made. We're ready!"

The ever impressive Turtle climbed back into the truck, handing the cordless drill over to Penelope who stashed it in the duffle again. Bentley buckled his safety belt, started the truck, punched in a few keys on the machine then put the truck into gear. He would have had Murray drive but there was just no time. Murray was also of a larger build, able to stand the cold better than Bentley's scrawny frame.

It was certainly Bentley's time to shine. He eased the truck out, onto the road, following the path previously used to enter the building. While tricky, Bentley kept the wheels perfectly over the formerly made tracks, slowly driving out the way he came in. They followed their tracks in the snow, so as not to make new ones, just yet. So far, the plan was working perfectly. The Reaper leapt from rooftop to rooftop, occasionally throwing deadly bolts of lightning at the now-abandoned parking garage.

Sly and the crew continued to watch as the tiny figure of a man hopped from building to building, throwing massive beams of white hot light into the garage that shrank in the distance. Bentley, once again, proved to be incredibly brilliant. Once the building was out of view, he turned the truck away from the path.

A new set of loops were tracked around the block, surrounding multiple buildings in the area. Once a confusing set of snow tracks were left, masking their destination, Bentley headed back towards a new abandoned building. This new building would become the safe-house and before long, the tracks would probably cover themselves up. It all depended on the weather, which just happened to be calling for more snow within the hour.

In the distance, two rooftops were now raging with flames on the Prague Skyline. The Reaper was obviously a deadly opponent. Carmelita and the rest of the mob could only hope that Bentley wouldn't run out of tricks any time soon. At this point, the lil' green guy was surly at the top of his game. Sly finally sat up, leaning his head in through the open window in the back of the truck's cab.

Cooper was full of compliments, telling his friend, "You're my little green guardian angel, buddy. Murray's back here saying… that as a get-away driver, he couldn't have done a better job himself, even if he tried his best. Good job, Bentley!"

The tortoise smiled sheepishly. "Aw, thanks guys," He said, trying not to blush when Penelope leaned forward and placed her lips against the side of his face. The truth of the matter was, he went from a fried green tomato to a bright red one, in skin hue.

"I'm worried though," Carmelita said, sitting up in the back of the truck. Bentley backed the pickup into an old loading dock at the back of the building, cutting the engine off. Power to the cloaking device had also become exhausted. An orange light began to blink on the metal device on the dashboard and the truck fizzled back into a detailed object, filled with occupants.

"What's on your mind?" Sly asked, pulling his head from the window and turning to tilt it slightly at her.

"We've got a power-hungry demigod assassin on our trail," She mused with a frown.

Bentley shook his head slightly, "Don't worry about the sullen semantics, Inspector Fox. We'll stop these guys, expose them to the public world if we have to, and let the government fight them. Then we'll fade out of the picture and you'll have your job back when everyone has forgotten and your suspension has become old news, replaced by new news of super naturals among us."

"No," Carmelita said, moving up to the window of the cab, besides Cooper. "I'm worried that this Sire guy has already figured we'll outwit and outmaneuver this Assassin and in the mean time, they'll have bought themselves enough time to finish Clockwerk. Then we'll have that much more on our shoulders to worry about!"

* * *

**Steven lowered the welding gun, shutting off the soft blue flame **that emanated from the tip. He lifted his welding goggles and glanced up at Clockwerk with a grin. "The time has come," Cogitated the skunk. He beamed up at his creation, almost leering at it with a distorted sort of pride. "We have to change the tide of this war, art thou ready to do thy part, mine creation?"

"After we take care of Sire," Clockwerk mused softly, taking but a moment to ruminate his own involvement in this plot. He paused then asked, "You give me my legs and we leave this tiny place?"

"Indeed, such is the plan of action," Steven replied, with a firm nod. "I shall fetch the lion. Know thy job and execute with precision, minion of mine. Cleft him in twain; cut him down. With exacting accuracy, smite him in one fell swoop!" It was obvious that Steven had been waiting for this moment for a long time. He no longer wished to answer to anyone but himself. Now, he had the means to make that wish possible.

The one problem was that he was growing too emotional over this. Clockwerk narrowed his gaze at the tiny clockmaker, for whom he owed his life many times over, throughout the years. All that mattered to Steven was that his thousand year-old creation would mark the downfall of order and tip the scales of balance. The Millennial metallic menace pondered ulterior motives, however.

Once the plan was in motion, he left the room to find The Sire and bring the Bishonen-faced lion into the workshop. It was a ploy that he had planned out, completely. Now it was time to execute the plan and to equally execute The Sire. The Civil War among the circle of evil was about to begin. The metaphorical butterfly and its effect of the proven chaos theory was about to spread its unholy wings throughout the world. The ripple of the strongest earthquake was about to be unleashed on the dark-side of the railroad tracks.

Only the creator would know if that seismic ripple would reach the rest of the world and shake cities to their foundations in the wake of such a war. With The Reaper preoccupied on the streets of Prague, only one thing stood in Steven's way: Devine intervention of Fate. But with a world of Freewill, would such a thing come to pass, or would the war of Evil against Evil grow beyond all means of control, like a snowball rolling down the side of a snow-covered mountain?

* * *

A/N: _Well, was the chapter pro? Carmelita didn't recognize Sly's voice in the dream because he was speaking out loud in the room, practicing what he was going to tell her while she slept. Her unconscious mind distorted some of what he said into parables and messages that may or may not play into later events. Karla wasn't as much of an important factor in this chapter; sorry Karla Fans. More Karla next chapter than in this one. :) _

_My home internet has been down or this chapter would have been posted 2 or 3 days ago. Blah! It's time to eat... a chocolate chip cookie. Yum. _


	12. Break Down

_A/N: We've not had a good emotional Carmelita in a while. I really enjoyed writing the last chapter. I thought Bentley was being pretty clever but I'm not quite sure how I came up with that stealth camouflage … Cool huh? The wildest thing about that is that it's already been invented but it's not mainstream yet. Rad stuff. At any rate, a lot of things are about to hit and Carmelita has a brush with her personal emotions due to being overtired, even after feeling slightly rested from the short nap with the wild dream. A whole lot of things are coming down at once and she's beginning to realize that she's in the middle of it all and there is more at stake than she wants on her shoulders right now. The reason I've taken so long with this story is because my THIRD son was born December 29th at 8:20pm (20:20hrs, Eastern Time -5:00 GMT) and was exactly 6 pounds; 18.5 inches. His name is Tyler DeForest Carpenter-Weaver. Not only that but I've been terribly busy with the Band, Work, other stories, family drama… I plan to keep up on this story again. I promise :)_

_I ask you guys what you want me to do with Karla and Clockwerk in the Author's note that I include at the end of the chapter. Please, enjoy and thank you for reading, so far!_

_-kit

* * *

_

**Chapter 12: On The Verge Of **

**An Emotional Collapse**

**Karla Chintzy paced the empty living room** area. There was a dusty sofa on the side, in far worse condition than the one at the other short-lived safe-house. Carmelita was in the room and the two of them continued to exchange nasty glares every so often. In the next room over, the Cooper gang was assembled and working out a plan of action.

Penelope, Bentley and Murray were sitting in chairs at the table. Sly, on the other side of the table, was slouched down into his seat, half supported by his cane, which touched the floor. "And that's why Bentley's plan, for the first time ever, isn't going to work," He told them. "I heard this Skunk guy say it with my own ears. He detailed Bentley's basic plot outline to perfection. We've got to do something else."

"This is, indeed, a very cumbersome and inconvenient problem," Bentley sighed. "I have a plan B, C and D but the last two plans involve '_all else fails'_ tactics. Let's stick with plan 'B' for now."

"How many plans do you like to have as a back up?" Sly chuckled.

"As many as possible, right lil' buddy?" Murray noted.

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Bentley replied to the hippo with a casual grin. "Plan B was to storm the place with stealth and leave someone here at the Safe House to run a decoy in the city, to give the appearance that we're out in the streets instead of working our way through the bank."

"I know you and the way you present things," Sly said, sitting up properly and using the hook of his cane to push the brim of his hat upwards. "There's a catch."

"You're right," Bentley replied, adding, "You're going back to jail."

Sly blinked, as did Penelope and Murray. Sly leaned forward over the table, onto his elbows. "Say again?"

"We stage you getting recaptured. Karla will let you out when it's time to strike and then, after everyone is in position," Bentley told the group. He never paused, continuing to tell them, "Penelope and I will personally disrupt their security measures in the field and Murray will cause a large distraction by taking out the support areas surrounding the old vault where Clockwerk is being constructed.

"This will cause the entire structure to collapse. Clockwerk won't be harmed but it will slow down the final stages of his construction; stages which we are assuredly now in. Finally, when everything is in place, I'll release the lock on your cell, electronically, if Karla doesn't teleport you out, herself. Then we'll grab whatever we can to ruin Clockwerk's day, smash whatever we have to smash and leave… I'll have rigged the building with enough explosives that when we leave, we level it." Bentley glanced from Penelope to Murray, his eyes finally landing on Sly. "Any questions?"

The white-furred mouse lowered her eyes then re-lifted them, facing the short, green chelonian. "I feel like we're rushing into this; it's a shame we don't have time to secure photograph surveillance first," Penelope mused.

The tortoise frowned thoughtfully and tilted his head. "Unfortunately, we're _beyond_ being out of time," Bentley admitted sourly. "I'll have Carmelita stage a decoy to keep this Reaper guy distracted and she'll be at a safe distance. We have no time to spare, let's go gang." The group stood up and everyone headed for the door except for Sly.

Cooper went into the next room, only seconds after Karla had disappeared, leaving Carmelita alone. He approached the vulpine cop and sat down on the sofa, leaving his cane by the window. She narrowed her eyes at him, then frowned when she saw his expression. Finally, the vixen broke her nerve and approached the raccoon, sitting down besides him.

Blood still matted the side of her face where the bullet had pierced the tip of her ear. Both were in need of a shower and Sly was still sore from having a gash in his upper back. Penelope had done a fair job of stitching him up but it still ached with every step he took, due to the way he walked when trying to maintain silence.

It was no secret that Sly liked to arch his back and roll his shoulders with every step to ensure absolute silence when he stalked around town. His body faired no better than her ear right now and both felt as banged up as they looked. "Thank you for opening the cell back in the bank. Ya did real well, Carmelita. The gang and I are about to head back there and see if we can't finish the job."

"And where do I fit into this grand scheme?" She asked, folding her paws across her chest.

"You're going to make use of whatever goodies and gadgets Bentley has left in his duffle bags to create a diversion to keep Reaper on the outskirts of town," Sly replied.

The vixen frowned thoughtfully. She hated sitting idle. "Sly, why did you lie to me?"

The question came from out of nowhere. Sly glanced down at his paws. He may have been a thief but he was an honest-heart and lying to her _did_ cause him guilt. "I faked amnesia to get closer to _you_. Angry?"

Carmelita shook her head slowly, "For once, I'm not angry. But why couldn't you just tell me?"

"The bad guys don't just convert over night unless it's something extreme like that," Sly mused.

"But Cooper, you're not one of the bad guys," Carmelita cogitated thoughtfully. "For the first time, I see that you're out here doing a job. Just like me. Your job is a little more personal than mine and I take my job a little more personal than you. So, all in all, we're passionate about our work. I realized, when I saw Clockwerk back in that bank vault, towering to the ceiling, that you didn't just leave to stop this to keep your future family safe," She paused, glancing down for a moment.

"But you didn't leave soon enough because you were busy with me," She added. "I've had nightmares for days, Sly. In them, Clockwerk kills you while I look on, helplessly. We … we kiss, I get emotional and he attacks. Every time, he kills you, then I wake up and it's different every time. Am I just that obsessed with you, Sly?"

"I don't think so," Cooper told her, noting that she was starting to call him by his first name more frequently. That could only mean one thing; she was worried for his health, especially after they both narrowly escaped the hallway of supernatural freaks. Clockwerk was only the climatic leftover if they couldn't stop his construction in time.

After the thoughtful pause, Sly added, "You've never dated a guy before, until we became partners, right?" To his inquiry, Carmelita nodded. Sly smiled softly then continued, "SO you've never had any reason to trust guys before. If I'm the first guy that you've felt strongly towards and I'm the first guy to compliment you and I'm reliable when it comes to escaping and try to show you a little good natured-ness when I turn myself in, maybe this obsession is just special…?"

"Sly Cooper," Carmelita shook her head slowly, glancing down once more. She didn't know what to say. She felt as lost as she did several nights ago, during her first nightmare when this all began. She knew she didn't know what to say to him. She felt confused and wanted to tell him how she felt but couldn't bring the words out.

Sly reached a paw beneath her muzzle and lifted her chin so that their gaze was met and locked with one another. He then leaned forward, tilting his head just slightly, but she was quick to pull back. She noted the raccoon's lower lip trembling. He couldn't admit that it was quivering in excitement, where she was filled with fear and nervous trepidation. She didn't want to let her guard down with him right here in front of her. It was, however, difficult to fight these all-consuming feelings.

Carmelita could feel the soft whiskers that fluttered against the side of her muzzle. His maw was just centimeters from her own and her body was shaking. Why did she feel this way? Why was her heart racing? Sly reached for her left paw and brought it up to his own chest. Once he pulled her palm against his heart, she could feel that his heart was also pounding, which did her in, melting her defenses until she was nearly undone.

Sly caught her off guard with this moment by using his other paw, still beneath her jaw, guiding her chin towards him. She gasped softly, holding her breath. Sly leaned forward, brushing his lips against hers in a soft kiss. She'd dreamed of this kiss for days. It had been a year since she'd last kissed him, the night before he disappeared. In a literal sense, this kiss was her dream come true, tonight.

She allowed herself to melt into the kiss just a little, but kept herself from becoming overzealous. His soft, velveteen tiers meshed against her own lips, causing her heart to beat wildly. It felt dirty and taboo. And yet, it felt _right_. It felt like a real _home_, as if she knew this moment belonged in her life. Her right paw lifted to cup his muzzle softly, engaged in the blissful kiss.

It lasted for several moments before she regained her insecurities, using them to defensively shield her tender emotions. She as trying to become callous but the ice-queen was melting, fast. She placed her paws against his chest to heave him away but was reminded by how hard his heart was beating, causing her to blush into the kiss. She finally found it within herself to shove him, breaking the kiss.

Their lips however, didn't completely separate. The next thing she knew, her mouth opened, still brushing against his, but instead of deepening the kiss with an addition of feverous passion, something far different happened. Words rushed passed her lips before she even realized she was saying them. The statement was muffled against the side of his mouth but their message was clear. "I… I love you Sly Cooper," She finally admitted, having not been able to find the words during her first dream (A/N: _Chapter 1_).

"I know," Sly whispered in reply. He leaned his head up and kissed her forehead, standing up. He placed his paw on her shoulder as a gesture for her to stay on the sofa. The raccoon then began to move back towards the window.

"Say it, you rascal," She snapped, sharply.

"I promise that I will, if I make it back, Inspector Fox," he told her, backing up to the window. He took his cane in one paw, reaching behind himself with his other, to open the window then he offered her a wan smile.

Sly bowed to her, backing into the window, crossing a paw horizontally over his waist. He winked then told her, "After this is all over, if I make it back in one piece, maybe we can try things over, again. This time, maybe you can get to know Constable Cooper _without_ the amnesia. Sound good… Partner? Au revoir, mon Ange."

He gave her a charming smile that held as much promise as his kiss, then backed out the window, dropping from sight. It caused Carmelita's heart to nearly leap into her throat. He became so business-like when she demanded for him to reciprocate Love, only for him to call her 'angel' before dropping out through the fourth story window.

Carmelita rushed to the window ledge, gripping the sill tightly, gazing down the side of the building. The Raccoon had a parasail and plummeted into the bed of a pickup truck which raced out from underneath the building, heading down the next road and disappearing from view.

"You… dirty scoundrel!" The vitriolic vixen said, pounding the window frame with her paw. "You had _better_ come back!" She shouted into the night air. A moment but passed and her only reply was the sudden addition of snowfall. Heavy precipitation began almost immediately, as if the Creator overturned a box of glitter.

Fat little snowflakes spilled from the sky and she realized the metaphorical meaning behind its presence. The calm before the storm had just ended and the group was about to find out how difficult it was going to be to metaphorically weather this incoming storm. If they didn't hurry, they would be in for the squall of their lives.

Haste made waste so they all knew they had to be at the top of their game. If one single hitch presented itself into their plan, it could spell doom for all of them. There was only one presence that Carmelita could think of that was capable of such a snag. There was only one hindrance in the whole world that came to mind.

"Wasn't that sweet?" Came a voice from behind the Inspector. Carmelita Fox narrowed her eyes. Apparently the very drawback that came to her mind was in the room with her, right now. Outside the window, the harsh tempest was picking up the pace, rattling the rest of the windows in the apartment complex with a harsh gale.

"I wonder if anyone would miss you if I killed you," Carmelita grumbled softly.

"Sweetheart, I'm immortal. You can't kill the everlasting," Karla replied with a playful tone that was as tacky-sweet as maple syrup.

"Strange; Donovan Loupe said the same thing… right before I killed him," Carmelita snapped with a smug grin. "Or did you forget about that? There is no room for you in a jail that's meant for mortal criminals but don't take my threats to heart, _dear_."

Karla Chintzy, returning to the first topic, continued, "What a kisser that man is, non?"

Carmelita turned about, quickly, and put all of her weight behind her right paw. The fist careened into the half-breed's jaw without warning. Karla was struck so hard that the clap of sound was a resounding slap, sounding like a light bulb popping against cement. The Felox was forcibly flipped over the armrest of the sofa, coming to rest motionlessly draped over the dusty sofa.

Inspector Fox raised her right paw, shaking off the sting, before narrowing her eyes. Those soft amber orbs zeroed in on one broken claw. The others, still intact, were of a red lacquered color, beginning to chip but only one was now broken. She turned back to the unconscious Karla Chintzy and smirked.

Carmelita reached her left paw up to her mouth, reaching her fingertips in, between her lips, pulling out a wad of chewing gum. She then approached Karla and put it in the half-breed's hair, walking into the next room to grab the two duffle bags belonging to Bentley. The vixen came back out, passing through the living room, casting one last glance at Karla's silent form.

Carmelita paused, glancing down at the broken nail on her right paw. She narrowed her eyes. It took forever to grow nails that long and it was a real pain to keep them manicured, to look professional. Inspector Fox's eyes roamed back to the unconscious woman, draped unceremoniously across the sofa with a wad of gum in her hair. "That's what you get, bitch," Carmelita muttered before shutting the apartment door behind herself.

* * *

**The Gang had split up** once they were inside the bank. Sly, now on his own, was known to slink down the hallways of such a building but his posture portrayed his injuries. The slick raccoon kept his composure, moving through the dimly illuminated hallways. His ears perked up, hearing two voices, and he quickly slipped into the darkness of an intersecting corridor.

Steven, the skunk behind Clockwerk's construction, was walking down the hall with Sire, who did not have his powers engaged at the moment. Suddenly, something tight wrapped around Cooper's neck. Sly blinked in surprised, reaching up to grasp at whatever it was, but his fingers sank into the shady tendril, simultaneous to his body being lifted.

His eyes widened and he was carried out from his hiding place, floating towards Steven and The Sire. He struggled in the grip of the shadow arm that had him by the throat. The recently-sewn gash in his upper back was screaming in the pain that was caused by being carried from the décolletage.

From out of the shadows, Donovan Loupe stepped, looking well minus a bit of dried blood on his forehead where he'd been shot earlier. "Did you really think that I was dead, Mister Cooper? Come now, did any of you think that a true immortal could be killed? Greetings my liege," He said, turning his attention to Sire.

Steven narrowed his eyes, glancing away for a moment. "Donovan, you live? My word, this certainly changes everything doesn't it?" He said, trying not to sound disappointed.

"I …thought… Carmelita killed you?" Sly choked out, struggling in the grip of the shadow tentacle that had him by the collar.

"A bullet to the head? I told her and I'll tell you, halfwit Raccoon, I'm immortal," Donovan said. "I required some time to heal but I assure you, I am not dead or beaten. Your Honor, shall I throw this one back into his cage?" Loupe chuckled softly.

"By all means, lock him away. He'll be an excellent lure to bring the others out of the woodwork, one by one," Sire said, speaking of the Cooper Gang, "Then we can exterminate them… with _extreme_ prejudice."

"As you wish, my lord," Donovan said, turning to Sly Cooper and wiggling a finger, playfully. It caused the appendage of shady abyss to push Sly's body down the hallway, still holding him up by the neck. "My apologies if I've startled you, gentleman. It's hard to think with a bullet in your skull. It took a short while to heal such an injury. I'll go and tend to our guest, now."

"Very good," Sire said, obviously pleased. "I now have Reaper on the scene as well, searching the streets of Prague to make certain of our safety. He's going to guarantee that Steven has enough time to finish the construction of Clockwerk, before Cooper's gang has enough time to pull any stunts."

"Very good, Sire," Donovan said, leaving the hallway. Once the skunk and lion were alone again, Steven turned back to Sire and offered an awkward sort of smile.

"I told you it was premature to call Reaper. We have everything well under control; there was no need to bring Nathaniel into all of this. At any rate, perhaps now would _not_ be the best time to take you in to see Clockwerk's progress. Our time tables have changed now that there are an unexpected number of players on the field."

"How do you mean, Steven?" Sire folded his arms, casting a sideways glance at his old friend.

"Let's just say," Steven paused before smiling a bit. He then continued the lie, adding, "With the extra security now in the picture, I can sit down and take my time doing this right, without rushing, Sire. Now that I'm not under such a stressful time table, I can loosen up and not rush; haste makes waste, my friend. I'll bring you in when there's _real_ progress worth reporting. For now, go and catch up with Donovan and see if he's all right or if he needs anything."

Sire nodded slowly. Steven shook the effeminate lion's paw then headed back to the vault laboratory. The skunk slipped in through the door, glaring up at Clockwerk. "New plans, Donovan's not quite as dead as we had all thought. With three power players in the area, all on Sire's side, we have to be delicate about this. Karla, Reaper and Donovan are trouble, individually. Yet combined, they have the power to stop us from finishing your repairs, if I were to kill Sire now.

"So, thy plans must change. Thou hast seen the power of each; their individual abilities far exceed most. Together, however, thou must show reverence, respect and carefully monitor thy chronometer. The conclusion of such a wait draws nigh. For now, patience must be harnessed from within."

Steven's archaic speech tumbled forth from his mouth, abandoning his modern method of speaking, now that the scientist was alone with his creation. "I shall use Donovan to ensure the death of Inspector Carmelita Fox, then we can manipulate Reaper to do his job against the rest of this silly rag-tag group. Finally, we'll pit Donovan and Nathaniel, the Reaper, against one another by turning one against the other.

"Finally, I'll dispose of Karla Chintzy by luring her here with a lie about this stupid Diamond they're all searching for. We'll get the drop on her, detain her before she can teleport, then we'll crush and dismember her body, before she can escape." Now Steven's voice wavered back into a modern syntax method, skirting between his ancient side and his modern vocabulary technique.

Clockwerk was quick to notice but didn't say a word. The genius was hyperkinetic and didn't need sleep, but with the added stress on his shoulders, even the emotionless Clockwerk could tell that the man was frustrated from duress.

"On the verge of civil war; Donovan needs must stay dead. A thorn in mine side, he is," The skunk grumbled to himself, working two components together. It was his one personal flaw; when he became flustered due to something _not_ going according to his plans, he became irritable and frustrated. This time was no exception. With this great mind came a great flair for the dramatic, at times. It was incredibly easy to exasperate the inventor.

* * *

**Inspector Carmelita Fox hustled down the wind-swept, snow-shrouded road**. Her foot prints were covered almost immediately after leaving them, due to the heavy snowfall that layered the streets of Prague. Criss-crossed over her shoulders, across her chest, she had both of Bentley's duffle bags full of gear.

Having done an inventory before leaving the abandoned complex, she knew she had everything she would ever need, including her shock pistol. Two high-power Glock .50 caliber handguns were now strapped to holsters, beneath her arms. Two Beretta 9mm pistols were strapped to her hips, a police-issue Spaz12 shotgun was strapped across her back.

In the duffle bags, she had smoke bombs, a fragmentation grenade, a magnesium flash grenade, rope and a hook-shot similar to the one Sly used on his last job. Finally, there were some incendiary devices, from White Phosphorous hand grenades to Dragon's Breath shotgun rounds. She wasn't sure why she was chasing after the gang; something told her if she wasn't there to run the show, Sly would die like in her nightmares. In those nightmares, she did nothing but watch when he was killed. She couldn't sit on the sidelines tonight, she had to try.

She approached the bank, ignoring the sharp bite of the cold nipping at her flesh and fur. Coming into the alley alongside the bank, she skidded to a halt in her tracks, seeing the dark outline of a shady character she thought she would have never seen again. "…You," The vixen clinched her paws into fists for a moment, before reaching for her shock pistol.

"I told you: I'm immortal. Didn't Sly Cooper tell you to stay put in your silly safe house?" Donovan Loupe's form solidified from the patch of shade and his arms folded across his chest. "A shock gun? Really now, little one. Be not imprudent. Based on the intrinsic known, even your most visceral combat cannot defeat me; but I need to know: Why bring a toy gun to an adult showdown?"

"So you were hiding at our safe house, spying, eh?" The Vixen grumbled. "Enough with the big vocabulary; you don't impress me. Shut up and fight if you want to show me something," Carmelita told him. She aimed the shock gun forward at arm's length. The narrow-eyed wolf simply grinned.

"Please, shoot me, I'm _dying_ to see what your silly little shock toy will do. Make it _sting_, Inspector," Donovan chided her. His arms were still folded and he stood tall, waiting for her to pull the trigger.

Faster than he could blink, Carmelita employed her free paw to pull out one of the high-powered Glock pistols, firing off a round, right through his heart. The bullet ripped through his chest, passing through the other side and disappearing into a metal dumpster further down the alley. Carmelita grinned, "Did _that_ sting?"

The wolf lowered his head, looking at the bullet wound in his chest. It hurt like hell. "Yes, it stung," He growled softly, lifting his eyes in time to see her pull the trigger again. His body turned partially transparent, going into a tenebrous form, so that the next round passed through his head and hit the dumpster, half way down the alley.

As soon as his body became solid again, she shot him with the shock pistol, causing his muscles to contract hard. She ran forward, pushing the Glock back into its holster, then leapt into the air, kicking him in the side of his head, while he was still under the body-numbing sensation of her shock pistol rounds.

The shadowy figure lurched towards the wall, slamming into the bricks. His motor skills returned to his lithe, yet muscular form but Carmelita offered no chance for him to return to combat; she wanted to keep him completely dazed. She twirled about, gaining momentum before unleashing a devastating pistol whip maneuver across the side of his head. A trickle of scarlet turned into a river, running down the side of his face.

Donovan's eyes narrowed and he kicked his leg out, catching her in the gut. She was thrown backwards, landing unceremoniously upon her tail in the snow. "It's on, now, freak!" She bellowed, coming to her feet. In her wake, there was an impression in the snow of her backside and the two duffle bags that were across her shoulders.

She took the gear bags off, sitting them nearby then gave a sharp tug at her jacket to get the loose snow off of her shoulders. She then cracked her knuckles, narrowing her eyes. "You're in my way of trying to destroy Clockwerk, ready to tangle?"

Donovan paused, tilting his head. "You're not here with the thieves to _steal_ Clockwerk's parts and rebuild him yourself?"

Carmelita balled her paws into fists and shouted, "I'm here to _steal _Clockwerk's parts and melt them down to make a set of fancy shoe-horns, now get up and let's do this, already!"

"You're in league with Karla Chintzy," Donovan claimed in an accusing tone. "I know you're here with your little brainy dweebs to take Clockwerk into your own paws."

"Shut up and fight, we can talk about this later," Carmelita exclaimed, boiling with rage. "And as far as your little girlfriend, I knocked her tail all the way into tomorrow; now let's tango."

"If that is your desire, allow me to placate!" Donovan roared, throwing his arms forward. Two tendrils of shadow raced forth from the abyss and Carmelita smirked with confidence. She was ready for him this time. She knew exactly what would fight against shadows and she was prepared.

Carmelita shoved the shock pistol into her jacket and dove forward. She tumbled through the snow and when she came up from the roll, she was on one knee, having taken the shotgun out of her back holster, aiming it directly at Donovan. He recalled the shadows by closing his paws into fists and faded into one, himself, so that bullets would be able to pass through him.

"Bullets might go through you," Miss Fox said, leveling the Spaz12 shotgun at the shadow patch, propped up on one knee, "But I dare you to dodge _this_," She glowered, squeezing the trigger. The incendiary shotgun rounds screamed forth, spewing white phosphorous flames that reached 1,763F (962 Celsius) degrees, hot enough to melt silver. It scorched the brick wall and ripped through the tar-like patch of shadow, causing a shrill scream to be heard.

Anticipating Donovan to be injured and shift back into a solid form, she brought the butt of the shotgun around as hard as she could. The timing of her swing was perfect, connecting with Donovan Loupe's head just as it solidified, taking the full brunt of her melee attack. It knocked him to the ground, causing him to gasp and wheeze.

"I saw you DEAD in that field in my dreams, now go back there and STAY PUT!" Carmelita shouted, kicking him in the throat, putting the smoking shotgun barrel against his head. The end of the barrel was half melted shut from the heat of the incendiary shells. The metal sizzled against the side of his head, causing a subtle hissing noise.

"I thought your nightmares were about Clockwerk," He grumbled with a ragged voice. His torso was horribly burnt and the flesh and fur below his shoulders was gnarled and temporarily disfigured. The bullet hole in his chest over his heart was cauterized shut from the heat.

"I don't KNOW how to explain my dreams, dammit!" Carmelita snapped, pushing the hot shotgun barrel against his head harder. It singed the fur on the side of his face. "Now, when I roast your head off your shoulders, we'll see just how immortal you _really_ are," She snickered.

Another voice joined the party. "The longer you talk to him, the more likely he's going to live," Karla said, from further back in the alley. Carmelita rolled her eyes, grumbling under her breath. Chintzy continued, "Just do it, Inspector, end his life; hurry!"

"Shut up or you're next," Carmelita snapped, glancing over her shoulder for a quick moment before returning her gaze back to the fallen form of the shadow wolf.

"I shall provide you with one reason as to why Karla Chintzy is your foe," Donovan said, his tone only slightly louder than a whisper. Before Carmelita could make a decision, he pointed at Karla with one clawed finger, wiggling that furry digit at the Felox.

Carmelita glanced over her shoulder. A shadow tentacle came out from under Karla's body, lifting a small pendant from Karla's pocket. Carmelita squinted then gasped, recognizing the necklace. It was the Pendant of Iron Will that Sly had stolen from The Sire. Without it, he was practically defenseless against the Bishonen Lion.

Karla snatched the pendant from the shadowy appendage, stuffing it back into her pocket. "That's mine, Loupe. Kill him, Carmelita! Pull the trigger. Do it now!"

Carmelita's eyes went wide. "You teleported that pendant off of him so he would be defenseless, you backstabbing, conniving tramp!"

"Pull the trigger, then we'll talk; do it Inspector. Now!" Karla shouted.

"Your team has depended on this troglodyte and she was manipulating you the entire time?" Donovan asked, shaking his head and offering a sigh. He cleared his throat, trying his best to sit up but his body was nearly devastated. Karla approached the two of them, holding her paws out for the shotgun. Donovan coughed, glaring up at the pink-furred half-breed. "Don't give it to her, Inspector."

"Donovan and Reaper put Monsieur Cooper in great danger," Karla said, holding her paws out. "Now give me the shotgun or pull the trigger, yourself."

"I'm an Inspector. I ask questions first. That's what detectives do: They detect things, now back off," Carmelita said calmly, turning back to the injured wolf. "What's your story, creampuff?"

"I'm an agent," Donovan started, pausing to cough, "Who was sent in to infiltrate Sire's régime. Once he trusted me enough not to employ his psychological aura, I planned to attack him in the dark, with my shadows, and once Steven was defenseless, I would stop him from finishing Clockwerk. Then I was ordered to banish Clockwerk into a shadow tomb, part by part, all over the world. But I stepped back to watch when I learned that Steven's plans were to kill Sire himself."

"Bull," Karla snapped. "If anything, you wanted to betray Sire to help Steven finish Clockwerk and run the show, yourself. Convince us otherwise," She snapped.

Donovan closed his eyes and sighed. "Miss Chintzy, you only want this diamond so that you can use it as power and leverage over other immortals. You would use it to have Sly Cooper impregnate you, then you would get rid of him. You want Sire and Steven dead, so that you can run the show. All you want, Miss Chintzy, is for an attractive man to have your way with, then move on like the leech you are. I am everywhere at once. Wherever shadows are cast from a desk lamp, I am there."

"Don't believe him, Carmelita. You and I don't see eye to eye but we're on the same side. Kill this slime ball or I'll do it for you," Karla snapped, keeping her paw extended.

Carmelita turned back to Donovan, ignoring Chintzy with an eye-roll of dismissal. "Why blow your cover to me now, if you've gone through such great lengths to keep it up until this point?"

"Because one of two things are about to happen," Donovan growled softly, "You and I are going to die to that wench or she's going to die and I'm going to go back to guarding the bank. What's it going to be?"

"And if I kill you both?" Carmelita snorted.

Both Donovan and Karla replied in unison, saying, "Impossible," with Donovan adding, "There is no way you are quick enough to kill me then have enough time to fight her. In the time it takes to kill me, she'll have reacted by snapping your neck from behind. If you kill her first, then turn the gun on me, you have a better chance but by then I'll have prepared myself for self-defense."

"And if I activate a bomb in my duffle bags and kill all three of us?" Carmelita bluffed.

Donovan smirked. "Then you've killed your chances of saving Sly Cooper and his friends from the new Clockwerk. We all die and Clockwerk betrays Steven, leaving everyone dead except for the metal monster, itself. Is that what you wish?" He said, calling her bluff without so much as batting an eye lash.

"And if I leave you two to battle it out and just walk away?" Carmelita asked, keeping herself calm, cool and collected, having recognized this situation as a delicate one.

"Then I do this," Karla said, teleporting the shotgun into her paws and pumping the slide on the bottom, cocking the weapon and pointing it at both Carmelita and Donovan. "It's a pretty hot weapon that you have here, Inspector. You could really roast your enemies with something like this."

"Very witty, Miss Chintzy," Donovan muttered sarcastically.

Carmelita's eyes squinted, scrutinizing the half-breed Feline / Fox mixture. The gum was still in the woman's hair, which the Inspector noticed was causing her headfur to stand straight up. "You look ridiculous. Are you sure you want to go and do that?"

Chintzy smirked, telling the other two, "I'm sure that I'm sure, Inspector Fox. After I kill you both, I'll use this pendant of iron will to force Sly to submit to me. I'll get the diamond and be the first supernatural to bare children and with the power to grant and bestow such things to the supernatural race, I'll have incredible sway over them all."

"Power hungry fool," Donovan groused at the half breed that held the shotgun.

"Then why haven't you pulled the trigger already, dumb ass? Now I'm going to call _your_ bluff," Carmelita said with a grin.

"Call _this_," Karla snapped, squeezing the trigger in on the shotgun. The White Phosphorous round was sparked to life inside the shotgun chamber, but because the barrel had been melted from the last blast, it caused the gun to backfire. Screaming hot flames burst from the back of the weapon, causing the chamber to combust. It ruptured in a massive ball of flame, engulfing Karla Chintzy.

The oxygen consuming flames took the breath away from the Felox, so that she couldn't even scream. The intense heat pushed breath from her lungs, causing a low moan to emanate from deep in her chest which was almost immediately stifled by the explosion. The weapon's lethal backfire destroyed the immoral immortal, ripping her into pieces. Karla Chintzy was no more.

Carmelita shook her head slowly turning back to Donovan and offering her right paw. "Get up. You know, I asked if she was sure she wanted to do that, but I guess she didn't realize that the muzzle collapsed after one incendiary round."

"You knew this all along?" Donovan inquired, taking the vixen's offered paw.

"Of course I did. I'm a cop, they train me to use weapons. Don't be stupid. I can't be much of an Inspector if I don't know something as simple as basic physics. Heat melts metal, plain as can be."

"But how would you have killed me if I wasn't on your side?" Donovan asked, curiously.

"The .50 Cal in my pocket would have separated your head from your shoulders by removing your neck at point blank; I just used the fire as a bluff to make you talk. I had no idea that she would awaken from that punch, earlier. I was really hoping to fight her," The Inspector complained. "If I find out you're lying to me, I'll finish the job and you'll be my sparring substitute. You have no idea how pissed off I am, right now."

"I see that you're a better Inspector than I've given you credit for," Donovan groaned softly, sitting up and pulling himself to his feet, slowly. "You figured this out in a matter of moments, just having us engaged in the same conversation."

"I'm a _fourth generation_ cop. It's in my blood," She said, shoving the wolf up against the wall. She then turned to the remains of Karla Chintzy, which were scattered all over the alley. "Please tell me you got that pendant before she went boom?"

"Hold out your paw, little one," Donovan said. Carmelita did so, lifting her paw out and holding it open, palm up. A tendril of shadow, from above, released the pendant, dropping it directly onto the soft padding of her palm. "I have your word that you're not working with this thief group to _steal_ Clockwerk for your own benefit?"

Carme shook her head and offered a witty retort. "I'm _steal_ing my job back, I'm _steal_ing my man back and I'm arresting whoever is left, that gets in my way."

"And if they resist arrest?" Donovan asked while reaching to rub the salty, metallic tasting blood from off of his lower lip with the back side of his fist.

Carmelita drew her jacket back, showing him that she was armed to the teeth with an assortment of guns. "They won't resist. I don't tolerate that, anymore. Go back to Sire and tell him that Karla Chintzy attacked, with plans to free Sly Cooper. Tell him that you stopped her. Sly still thinks that's part of the plan, so even if Sire uses his powers to demand the truth from Sly, your cover story is perfect."

"What's the catch?" Donovan said, limping away from the wall, heading for the nearest door.

"Two things," Carmelita said. "After Sire verifies your story with Sly, wait until he leaves then give Sly the pendant. If you double cross us, I've got enough explosive toys in those duffle bags to make that Dragon's Breath shotgun look like a cigarette lighter. And I promise you this: you'll get very intimate with them when I shove one up your butt. Now go."

* * *

**Sly Cooper rubbed his eyes** once Donovan left. He couldn't believe what had just happened. He was now holding the pendant of Will in his paw. He was alone again, now that Sire and Donovan had both left. It was the weirdest thing. From what he gathered, Karla tried to get him free and Donovan stopped her, but then, before leaving, he gave Sly the necklace.

It was a confusing situation that was for sure. But with Karla rumored to have been "stopped" or, as Sire worded it, "Defeated", he had to wonder how much more work Bentley had ahead of him. Footsteps caused the Raccoon's ears to perk up once more and he went back to his bench, hiding the pendant.

Nathaniel Carrington stepped into the hallway, approaching Sly Cooper's cell. His well polished shoes shined in the recessed lighting. He lifted his left paw and a plasmatic discharge of energy began to emanate in his palm. The energy began to grow in size, shape and mass until he was holding an illuminated scythe.

He tilted his wrist, causing a hook to come to the end of the weapon constructed of light. He then flicked his wrist, cutting through three of the bars in Sly's cell. "Now that you know that I can dice steel like butter, I'm fairly sure I have your attention."

"Let me guess," Sly chuckled, "_You_'re the Reaper."

"Oh, my dear boy," Nathaniel said quietly. "Then the door was open and the wind appeared. The candles blew then disappeared. The curtains flew then he appeared, saying don't be afraid… Don't fear the Reaper. Ever heard of that song?"

"Blue Oyster Cult; what brings you to my neck of the woods?" Sly asked.

"Sire wishes to know where this diamond is and how to open your vault, if that's where it is," Said the Reaper, skillfully using the scythe to carve intricate designs into one of the cell bars. "I'm very good with this weapon. I can carve all sorts of precious inches off of you and your Inspector friend."

"It's a family riddle," Sly said offhandedly, as if he wasn't even giving the assassin his serious attention.

"Are you afraid?" Reaper asked with a smirk.

"Seasons don't fear the Reaper. Nor do the wind the sun or the rain. Why should I?" Sly asked, throwing the same lyrics from the same song back in the man's face. "Weren't we talking about riddles? Did you forget or did you just come down with sudden Attention Deficit?"

"Here's a riddle for you, Sly Cooper. We'll exchange riddles and I'll be on my merry way," Said the killer with a sharp grin. "There's a glass of bloody water on a night stand in a bedroom. The window is open and the police are investigating a murdered man on the bed, who has a stab wound. There's no sign of a bullet in the wound, the weapon used was not a knife. One of the newbie cops goes to shut the window because he's cold. One of the veteran detectives scolds him, telling him not to touch it. How did the man die?"

"Let me guess," Sly said, standing up from his bench with a smirk, "You killed him?"

"I was not involved," Nathaniel said, "You have two guesses left. I'll start removing fingers until you get it right, unless you tell me how to get this diamond."

"Where is the murder weapon?" Sly asked.

"It's in the room," Reaper replied, beginning to twirl the scythe in a threatening manner.

"One of the cops did it?" Sly folded his arms. This stupid riddle was making no sense.

"No, last chance. There's a glass of bloody water on a night stand, Sly Cooper. A man with a stab wound is dead on the bed. One of the younger police officers goes to close the window because he's cold but a veteran detective tells him to leave it alone. How did the murder victim die?"

A voice came from further down the hallway. "The glass of bloody water is the murder weapon. The killer used an icicle from outside to stab the man then left, in a hurry, leaving the window open. The victim pulled the icicle out, in the last moments of his life, leaving it in the glass, knowing that it would melt in his body if he didn't hurry, thus leaving a clue." It was the voice of Carmelita Montoya Fox.

She was loaded down with her gear, minus the Shotgun. Both .50 Caliber Glock's were in her paws, pointed at Reaper's head. She knew that using a shock pistol on a man who could control electricity would be lethal to herself. "If you so much as reach for an itch, I'll turn your head into Swiss cheese and I have enough rounds to make it last."

The older badger turned to face her, narrowing his eyes. "You are correct. However, it does seem that no one has explained to you that which is the concept of immortality."

"No," Carmelita mused, "I figured it out for myself after being told three times that Immortals can't die."

Reaper reached his free paw to his ear, touching a small earpiece with his furry fingertip. "Karla, teleport in here and take care of this unwanted guest, while I interrogate your boy toy, Monsieur Cooper."

"What did I just tell you about moving? And so you know, Karla won't be joining us," Carmelita said, slowly approaching the Reaper. "She and I had a good time together, it was a real _blast_ but I don't see her joining this party any time soon, because she's a little _partied out_ at this point."

"I'm a trained assassin; do you really think you can kill me, let alone disable me?" Reaper chuckled. "Don't you have to cock those pea-shooters before you can fire them?"

"They're Glock's dumb ass," the Inspector told him, firing off one round. Quickly, the badger flipped the energy scythe about, slicing the bullet into two pieces. One half hit the wall, the other ricochet off the cell bars, causing Sly to duck. Carmelita grinned. "Step away from the raccoon. You can't dodge semi-automatic fire, multiplied by 39 more rounds. And I'd _love_ to see you use that little maneuver on a grenade, I have a few of those too."

"If you kill me, you'll never find out where your friends have been hidden, when we captured each one of them," Reaper said, narrowing his eyes and widening his grin. "Really, my dear, I hold all the chips, here."

"I guess you haven't heard the news," Carmelita said with a smirk. "I'm a cop, they're the robbers. We're not on the same team, so you hold nothing. All you're doing is standing in the way of my prize catch. Are you ready to scrap over him?"

"I heard you're not very good at hitting a moving target," The badger chortled, tilting his head in an almost cocky, playful way. Carmelita moved her right paw just a few inches then fired. The noisy pistol caused everyone to wince from the volume. The round struck one of the cell bars, bouncing off of the round pole, which caused it to angle over, clipping the badger's ear, piercing it.

He groaned audibly, wincing again at the pain in his ear. Carmelita tilted her own head, popping the joints in her neck. "It's a good thing you're just standing still, then. Are you ready to do this? I'd arrest you but you guys suspended me, so the power vested in me to bring you into custody has expired. Now it's time to make some changes."

"You're already too late," Reaper sneered. "Clockwerk may not be finished yet, but he's active and awake. None of you stand a chance." He then turned to Sly Cooper, snarling softly. Blood ran down the side of his head, along the side of his neck, from the wound at the tip of his ear. "As for you, we'll be finishing this interrogation soon and I promise, I'll be carving into the both of you until I get the answers I want."

"You've got a hole in your ear," Sly chuckled. "I hear it's the new fashion. It's all the rage back in Paris."

"Hey, I've got one in _my_ ear," Carmelita said, approaching him, keeping the guns trained on Carrington's head. "I couldn't help but extend the fashion to you. Want your other ear to match or would you rather just have a few holes elsewhere in your head?"

"I'm not running away from this fight, like a coward," Nathanial Carrington told them. "I'm leaving to go and verify what you've said, concerning Karla Chintzy. I'll return soon to kill you both." With that, his body began to incandesce, growing brighter and brighter. A flash of light could be seen behind his eyes and emanating from his muzzle and ears. It grew into an unbearably bright flash and then he was gone.

Carmelita approached Sly, standing on the other side of the jail cell bars, which had been cut by the scythe earlier. She shook her head slowly, seeing that he'd been roughed up a little. Her eyes lowered to the diced jail bars, pushing three of them out of place until they fell to the floor with a noisy clang.

She then smirked. "I hate having my bluff called, but wait until he finds out I wasn't fibbing about Karla. You're not upset are you? Let's go find the rest of your friends; we can't stop Clockwerk's completion without them, we have to hurry…. I feel light headed," She added at the end. Sly approached the bars, which had been cut open by Reaper's scythe, earlier.

"I'm not upset about Karla," Sly assured her. He then told her, "I'm glad you're all right."

Slowly, Carmelita reached her paw out to balance herself. "Maybe I just need to eat something, after all the blood I've lost from earlier," She wondered aloud before losing consciousness and collapsing to the floor. The world around her went dark and Sly's worried words and warm breath on her ear was muffled into silence.

* * *

A/N: _Oh no! What happened to Carmelita! Well, she's overexerted. She's on the verge of emotional and mental collapse because of how stressful this has been on her and she's been running herself hard and it caught up with her. She's out of gas, if you will. She needs to recuperate… and right when they're out of time; what are they to do!_

_So, did you guys like how I made the good guy evil and the bad guy good? C'mon now, I couldn't kill Donovan with a bullet to the head, he's too badass and he's an immortal! It wouldn't kill a highlander; it would just incapacitate them for a while. But having one's head separated from their shoulders always works and being blown into smithereens worked pretty good for Karla, whose only plan was to seduce Sly, get the information out of him about the Diamond of Fertility then use him to have offspring, then kill him… I guess Carmelita put a hitch in HER plans, huh? Hehe. _

_Finally, it looks like I wrote another long chapter, full of intrigue and all that fun stuff. I've had migraines all week last week and it's been a huge mess. Now I'm feeling better, that's why I wrote this chapter today, while I was at work. Word2003 says this is 18 pages. I don't know how many pages it would be, printed, but that's a lot to write, in 8 hours, while dealing with Customers every few minutes, lol. It's about 9,000 words, so it's almost double what I normally write for a single chapter. It's the longest chapter of this story, as a matter of fact. But there's a reason!_

_Why did I write so much? Because I made you guys wait so long that I felt I owed you guys a nice long chapter. Carmelita really kicked some tail in this chapter. I think she's beat more people up in this chapter than she has throughout the whole story, hehe. I was really tickled when she put GUM in Karla's hair… girls can be so mean to each other, sometimes. Hehe. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. They get illogical, irrational and emotional. Then they make life hell if you're on their bad side, lol. Then they go out into the world and kick some serious tail. _

_In the next chapter, we'll find out what happened to the rest of the Cooper Gang and how they got captured. We'll find out what happened to Carmelita and we'll find out what the story is behind Donovan Loupe and just WHO he works for… but let me ask you all a question: Should Karla Chintzy be dead for good? I'm NOT bringing her back NEXT chapter, but if enough of you want her alive, or a good guy, or whatever it is that you may want for her, I'll probably do that later into the story. _

_So make sure you include, in your review, if you want Karla alive and what I should have happen to her. Also, should Clockwerk be completed and fight the gang, or should they destroy him before he's finished being built? LET ME KNOW!_


	13. Carmelita's Unlucky Number

-1A/N: _Sorry for using Biblical references in the good-vs.-evil undertones. I thought it was perfect that way, but some of you may be agnostic or part of Wicca or a million other religions. Stay cool, guys! This is, by far, the darkest hour of the story. It's time to find out just who is REALLY running the show, here. I now unveil… the mastermind bad-guy.

* * *

_

Chapter 13: An Unlucky Number

**Carmelita's world dissolved **into oblivion. She stood in the field of post-apocalyptic hell; in the battlefield of the damned, once again. Clockwerk was there, as well. The vixen narrowed those soft amber oculars, reaching to her hip for her guns. They were still there.

"What're you doing in my nightmares?" She inquired through clinched teeth.

"Who says they're truly nightmares?" Clockwerk asked. "What if you're being transported to another plane each time you come here?"

Carmelita tilted her head, furrowing her brows. "Spare me the semantics; you're a worthless criminal who's over-glorified and you _don't _frighten me."

Clockwerk, the massive two story metallic monster, placed his massive winged fists on his hips. "What if I told you that this place has a direct bearing on you? What if I told you that this limbo doesn't protect you? If you were to die here you would be dead; this is not a dream or a nightmare like your past visits into your mental subconscious."

"Donovan was here, last time. He's not dead," She reasoned, with a smirk.

Clockwerk didn't concede, but folded his arms, instead. "You're mind is conscious in this realm. Ask yourself this question: 'Who am I and what does being an Inspector mean to me?' Then ask yourself why you're here."

"I'm Carmelita Montoya Fox, a fourth generation police officer and 7-pointed-star-badge Inspector of Interpol International, based in Lyon, France. My office is in Paris and I employ several people underneath me. I report to the office of my Chief every Monday Wednesday and Friday. I'm here because I'm having a nightmare."

"No," Clockwerk said in a surprisingly subtle voice. "Ask yourself why you're alive, here on this planet; what your role in life is?"

Inspector Fox tilted her head for a moment, mulling the question over. "I'm here to bring justice to both the deserving protected and the undeserving unjust of the world. Happy?"

Clockwerk wasn't himself. He was just an image and at the moment, the puppet of another. "You've just consciously considered who you are, what reasons you have for being yourself and used rational decision making abilities, Carmelita Fox. Therefore, you cannot possibly be asleep. It is my esteemed honor to explain to you that your mind has been projected from your body to a neutral field of battle, where you will be given the chance to defend yourself in order to earn your God-Given right to live."

"Explain yourself," Carmelita snapped, narrowing her eyes. "It's obvious that you're not Clockwerk; I demand an explanation. Who are you?"

The image of Clockwerk began to distort. It was just an image, used by some greater force. "I'm the one calling all the shots, little mortal. Karla was my pawn; I had plans to stop you through her. I was then planning to force Sly Cooper to this plane. While here, I was going to present your dead soul to him in his 'dreams', while Karla bore his offspring. Then my plans were to take the perfect mixture of Mortal and Immortal and use the offspring of Sly Cooper, an easily controllable Immortal Master Thief, to garnish the ancient artifacts necessary to resurrect my spirit into a mortal body. From there, I would be unstoppable."

Carmelita's eyes went wide. Her natural instincts as an Inspector came to the front and she realized everything that was happening and the reason behind it. "You malevolent scumbag!" She cried in shock. "You were manipulating _everything_! You wanted Clockwerk's body rebuilt a certain way so that you could use the bastard-child of Sly and Karla to masterfully steal certain things in the world to bring your soul back… then you planned to insert yourself into Clockwerk's body and rule from the most capable host available!"

"Clever girl!" The distorted image of Clockwerk cried.

"And that's why you're using an image of Clockwerk; in my dreams and here!" Carmelita continued. "You're trying to play everyone's actions as if we were pieces on a chessboard! But who are _you _playing against?" She demanded.

"As I said, this is not a dream for you, woman. And if you must know, I'm usurping your freewill with coercion and manipulation to bring about a dark fate!" The image of Clockwerk shouted. Its wings unfolded and the massive metallic body turned dark as if it was a silhouette, backed by a blood-red moon, casting a shadow upon Carmelita. The aura of the crimson luna surrounded his form like a total eclipse. His eyes glowed with a fiery passion of power and immense evil.

"What's your next move? Now that you've revealed yourself, it is time to fight me… is that it?" She asked, pulling both of her Glock pistols from their holsters.

The devilish presence announced, "I'm in the spirit realm yet you're unconscious in the physical realm. Carmelita M. Fox, we're in limbo. You're the Queen chess piece and after killing Karla Chintzy, you seem to be the only threat against my plans. Karla Chintzy's death was a loophole as she killed herself with no intention to take her own life. She's too archaic to know about weapons and the misplay was on unfair terms: You'd have never beat her face to face. Now, I plan to pit you against her in an honest fight to the death. If she beats you, your body will experience an aneurysm in your brain and her soul will be placed into your physical body. If you succeed, I will admit loss of that 'chess piece' and you will wake up."

Carmelita protested in anger. "That's unfair, because I should be awake to stop Clockwerk's construction so that you have no host to inhabit. I should be closing every avenue of your return; it's unfair that you've brought my spirit to this land!"

"Donovan Loupe was here after you put a bullet in his brain. I forced him to fight for his life, while he was here," Said the demonic aura in the sky. Its distorted shape was melting from that of Clockwerk to something indiscernible. "Obviously, he won but he never figured out who I am or why he was fighting. I didn't think you would, either."

"I told you," Carmelita hissed. "I'm a _fourth generation cop_. It's in my blood to crack cases by putting clues together. Bring on your pawn, I've been _itching_ to break that woman's nose, followed by her ego. But if I die, I'll be after you, personally. So you'd better pray that I win."

The dark force seemed to snicker softly. "Your threats are amusing. I will return to the physical realm; even Karla's death provides me with a measure of satire. I am undefeatable. Hell cannot hold me forever. I am the almighty of darkness. I was unfairly struck down by the Arch-Angels of Heaven. It took all four of them to defeat me in an epic clash of Good against Evil that restored the balance to the world. It leveled this planet and it caused nearly all life to be destroyed and start over, Sixty-Eight million years ago."

"But Sixty-Eight million years ago… that was caused by a meteor hitting the earth!" Carmelita reasoned.

The dark figure assuming the image of Clockwork huffed softly, shaking his head with a sigh. "That was the might of Michael, smashing me to stifle the life from my body; it worked for a while but I _will_ return," Said the dark cloud above her. "It caused the nearly instant death of more than half the life forms on this planet. Dinosaurs, plants, animals. Can you imagine the catastrophic death toll if it happened today? The Arch Angels would leave me alone in this modern day world."

"Are you telling me that _YOU_ are Satan?" Carmelita said with an air of sarcasm and disbelief.

"No," Said the omnipotent being of iniquity. "Satan is a child's story to put a name to our own sin. Our sin is caused by temptation that comes in all forms. It's as harmless as a credit card. It's a flimsy piece of plastic that puts you into debt if you're irresponsible. It seems harmless and it gives you what you want when you want it. But later, you pay with interest, whether it is monetary interest or whether you must pay in blood or you gamble at the cost of the lives of others you care about. Temptation is the only thing more evil than me yet there is no man to claim or blame, as Original Sin is born into every man, woman and child.

"No matter how innocent, temptation is the evil part of the balance of good and evil that comes into play every day. It gives the living realm a realistic ability to destroy the world without my help. I don't want the world to be destroyed: I want to rule it. Power and control are what appeal to me. You mortals have a 50 percent chance of destroying the world I wish to rule. I'm not tempted to gamble against such odds. Temptation doesn't affect me. I will simply fight to return to the world of the physical and control it with an iron fist to ensure the survival of your species so that I may rule the world as I was destined to do!"

"Then show me what you got. I'm surprised someone else hasn't figured you out already and stopped you by now," Carmelita said, grinning. "But if it's up to me, then I accept. Small world, huh?"

The evil miasma of darkness fluttered, still holding the shape of Clockwerk, only it was heavily distorted. "This is not my first attempt, little Vixen. It takes centuries to carefully plan this. That diamond is required to begin my plans. Having it put into hiding only slowed me down. I _will_ acquire it. Those that have learned of my presence in the past shouted my name to the physical world and all of them were locked up and labeled insane. Perhaps it is fitting: Only the crazy would come against me."

"You're boring me. Bring it on. I'll fight all your little pawns. What's Karla get out of this, _if _she wins, huh?" Carmelita requested, seeking to solicit the truth.

"_When _she wins," The darkness explained, "Your physical body will be stricken by a brain aneurysm. That is simply an unfortunate side effect of ripping your soul from your body and replacing it with _her_ soul. She will continue to live in your body. Then she'll bare Sly Cooper's offspring, kill him and the child will be half mortal and half Immortal. It will become my hand into the physical realm. With the child's inability to die and Master Thievious gifts, I will easily guide the young, unquestioning child to obtain all the scattered artifacts around the world necessary to bring about my re-birth."

"And what happens to Karla Chintzy if I defeat her?" Carmelita asked, standing tall. Her mortal-world wounds were gone. She was uninjured here. "Is her soul destroyed forever?"

"No, I'm afraid she will be reborn as a useless mortal. Then there is a 50 percent chance that she will be 'good'. If you are defeated, you will enter Heaven. That is the Creator's loophole, mortal. He is all-forgiving and if you've lived a life of evil, you are given one more chance to live a good life and earn your way into Heaven. If you fail a second attempt, you are subject to eternal damnation. Enough banter; it is time to fight!"

"You realize, if I win, I'll destroy the diamond forever," Carmelita boasted.

Clockwerk's shadow cackled deviously in reply to her comment, rebutting, "Not if temptation claims you and you claim it, covet it and protect it from harm! Temptation is quite a beast. Now, begin!"

Carmelita turned to glance over her shoulder. Karla Chintzy stood in the middle of the body-filled battlefield, glowering. Her voice was monotone with anger, telling the vixen, "I died unfairly. Now it's time to earn my way back to the world of the living. I'll take over your body and Sly will be mine. I'll have my way with him and look into his eyes every time he confesses love; I'll be the most powerful Immortal on the face of the Earth, with the ability to bare offspring. Prepare to die." The Felox closed her paws into fists, grinning darkly.

Carmelita ran towards Karla, holding two of her four pistols in her paws and Karla broke into a sprint, dashing towards Carmelita. It was an epic battle between two of life's chess pieces. It was overseen by God, who would ensure a fair fight. Carmelita knew that God would not intervene unless evil cheated, as he was the overseeing force of truth, justice and freewill. She would have to win this fight on her _own _merit.

Meanwhile, the dark sky of Limbo was filled with the presence of Evil, who also watched from the sidelines. It quickly became obvious just who he was. Who else could play the role of Evil but the Serpent of Eden? The shadowy snake grew quiet, leering at the two combatants with a fiendish smirk.

* * *

**Sly Cooper gripped the top of two cell bars in his paws**, placing his feet on the bottom halves, which he was bending, using all the strength in his body. It was an arduous task but he was slowly succeeding, since they had been sliced by Reaper's scythe. On the other side, Carmelita's body was slumped in silence. Only her breath ensured that she was alive.

The door at the far end of the hallway opened and Donovan came down the corridor, with Bentley. He turned to face the gate, glancing at the set of cut bars, back to Cooper. Worldlessly, he opened the gate and motioned for Bentley to go inside. The turtle used his bionic leg machine to walk himself into the cell, folding his arms across the soft pallet of his chest.

The gate was shut; Donovan glanced down at Carmelita's form and frowned thoughtfully. He used his foot and nudged her body towards the cell bars, so that her gear would be accessible to the two inmates, then walked out of the hallway, shutting the door behind himself. The hallway was silent again.

Cooper kept his position, half way up on the cell bars but he paused to catch his breath for a moment. Finally, he spoke again. "She's fainted or something. I think she's been running on full steam for several days without real rest or a chance to eat; she blacked out," Sly said with a sigh, shaking his head. "Maybe we can use some of her gear to get us out of here; I wonder what she brought."

Foam was building at the corner of her muzzle. It was a typical symptom of incredible dehydration. The filmy residue was eking at the sides of her maw, but her body was completely still. Sly had his feet turned outwards, using his heel against the lower half of the bars and locking his elbows and shoulders to pull on the top cut of the bars.

From where the metal rungs had been horizontally cut in the center, the bottom rungs were bending more and more now. They were solid metal but they weren't cast iron, reinforced or even tempered to resist. The bars only bent about an inch; not enough to crawl through, yet.

"Sly," Bentley said with a sigh, shaking his head. "You're going to give yourself a hernia. Think of your body; we can access her gear, grab some things out and let's see what we have to use!" Obviously the turtle knew that his Thievious friend had longer arms, it made more sense to have Sly complete the task.

Sly slumped to the ground, panting softly. After a moment, he reached a paw through the bars and began to rummage through the duffle bags of gear. Finally, he pulled a few objects out, looking at them as if they were puzzle pieces. There was a specially marked shotgun cartridge, a hook shot with chain and some other stuff that looked to be explosives.

His head lifted, looking back to the cut in the bars. The lower half jutted outwards a few inches, while the upper half of the bars were bent inwards about a half of an inch. After a moment, his eyes returned to the collection of gear. Bentley's muse of inspiration was with them and it rocked the turtle with an idea.

"Sly put the shotgun shell into the gap where the bars have been cut, with the metal part facing us," Bentley told him, rubbing his hands together with a grin. "This is just perfect."

Sly took the incendiary shotgun round and wedged it between where the top bar and the bottom bar were crooked, from his attempts of bending them. It barely fit and he had to struggle to wedge it into place but he made it work. Bentley nodded in approval, "Great, now wrap part of the hook-shot chain around the bottom rungs!"

Sly did as instructed and he wrapped the hind end of chain around the bottom rungs, which were bent slightly outward. Next, he reached through the bars and took Carmelita by her ankle. Sly knew what Bentley had planned, it had become as obvious as the fact that Bentley was a genius.

Slowly but surly, the raccoon had to drag her down to the other end of the cell, near the gate. He would have to pull his paws out from between cell bars, every so often, to guide her another foot downwards. He continued to do this until she was rather far away from where Reaper had cut a swath into a few bars at the opposite end.

Once Cooper was satisfied that she was as safe as possible, it was time to begin the 'science' experiment. "We need a hammer object; what about your bench seat?" The tortoise asked. "I have a feeling you already know what's going to happen."

"All right, Bentley," Sly said aloud, "You know, I figured this out when you said put the incendiary round between the jail bars. You know, between living with you and watching 'Bill Nerd the Science Bird' when I was bored on Saturday afternoons…" Sly trailed off, angling the hook-shot and loading the far end of the chain into the machine.

The master thief went back to the plank in his cell that was used as a bench. "This is plain awesome, Bentley, but as far as these incendiary cartridges: are you sure they're hot enough to work? What if the bars are solid cast iron?"

"We have to try," Bentley mused, thoughtfully. "But coming up here, I'm led to believe that the Wolf guy knew we would come up with this plan or that I would think of something. The first thing he said, when we left my cell on the other side of the building, was that these bars are a plain metal with simple alloy for strength. Now I understand."

The raccoon stepped up onto the bench then jumped on it, breaking the board from its wall mounts. Taking the chunk of wood, roughly the size and shape of a 2x4, Sly approached the incendiary round that was wedged into the bent part of the bars. He lifted the wood then smacked the back side of the shotgun cartridge as hard as he could, causing it to explode. He simultaneously dove away from the bars as the round erupted into a white-hot ball of fire.

Cooper could feel the wave of intense heat that emanated from the shotgun shell, which burned up instantly. It only took a short moment for the round's burst to conclude, leaving the cell bars glowing orange. He then moved back towards them, taking the hook-shot, firing it across the hall.

Having left a very small amount of slack in the line, the grappling hook line rushed across the hallway, pulling on the bottom half of the heated bars. It created enough of a gap that the Raccoon would easily be able to get through, if he was careful.

The metal rungs bent under the force of the hook-shot's chain, due to the heat that caused the metal poles to glow orange. They were malleable from the heat and it caused all three bars that reaper had cut, to bend forward, leaving enough room for Sly to climb through. The only problem was, the bars were still glowing orange and he couldn't climb through without burning himself, just yet.

Sly crept over to the other end of the jail cell, reaching through to the duffle bags over Carmelita's chest. He went through each object, trying to figure out how it could be useful. Finally he came to the smoke bomb. Like the objects before it, he analyzed it then gave it a shake. It was the best he could offer without the mind of a scientist. The smoke bomb, however, had liquid in it, which sloshed inside when he shook it.

"Perfect," Bentley said, over Sly's shoulder. "Intrinsic Science Knowledge tells me that oxygen mixed with the liquid inside is what causes the smoke", Bentley explained but Sly didn't care about anything other than the fact that it had liquid inside of it. He ran back down the wall of metal bars, to where the dimly glowing orange ones were bent, allowing for a means of exit, if he could squeeze through it.

The raccoon played with the smoke bomb until he found the small bolt in the bottom used for filling the little round ball with the liquid chemical. He unfastened the bolt using his teeth, then turned it over, pouring the contents on the glowing bars. It began to turn to smoke but for the most part, the liquid poured out faster then the compressed liquid-to-gas transformation could happen. Upon contact with the heat, the liquid hissed softly.

However, it worked better than Sly had hoped. He wasn't a chemist but this liquid was designed to transform into smoke in a room-temperature oxygen environment. The heat kept the chain reaction from happening too quickly. The liquid stayed liquid, oddly beading up on the orange bars.

It was like placing dry ice on glowing metal; it hissed and caused some steam and fog-like vapor but for the most part, the liquid absorbed the heat out of the metal, causing the orange glow to dim. Sly grinned over his shoulder at Bentley, who offered a 'thumbs up' gesture.

Finally, the smoke grenade was empty of its contents. By then, the bent bars were cool enough to touch. They were still fairly hot, but they didn't glow orange anymore, which meant that it would hurt to touch them but not cause scalding third degree burns. That, at least, was a step in the right direction, as far as Sly was concerned. Bentley, however, shook his head.

Sly could tell from a glance that he would be able to fit through the gap. His eyes perceived a twinkling aura of cerulean that shimmered all about the small gap. Bentley, on the other paw, wasn't convinced for himself. It was such a small space, for sure. He knew he couldn't hold Sly back from escaping. There was no probability to be sprung from jail, unless he escaped.

"There's no way I'll be able to fit through there, Sly. My shell is too wide at the hips, you'll be able to slither through that tight spot. You go on ahead, I'll be fine. We've got to hurry and free the gang, so that we can help Carmelita out of here. I passed them on the way here. They're in different cells, throughout the Bank. Penelope is on the third floor and Murray is downstairs, on the second floor. Hurry!"

Sly dove through the narrow gap with ease, breaking into a roll on the hallway floor. He glanced over his shoulder then grinned. "I'll be back, buddy. Don't let anything happen to Carmelita. In a few minutes, when those bars cool down, pull her over to the gap and pull her into the cell, just to be safe. Be back soon," Sly told him, dashing down the hallway to the door; he paused to look over his shoulder one more time then left.

* * *

Meanwhile…

**Carmelita fell into a strafing step** with Karla. The two women circled about, facing one another, at a stand off. Karla now had a solid hole in her shoulder, having found out the hard way that Carmelita's bullets seemed to have the same effect they had on her in the physical world. They hurt and they left wounds.

"I'm trying to decide," Karla said as the two strafed about, nearly toe to toe, "If I should use your own guns against you and blow your brains out, or if I should just snap your neck. Or maybe, I should punch a hole in your chest and rip your heart out while you watch. Can you possibly _comprehend_ what I've seen in my years of immortality?"

"Shut up and fight, harlot," Carmelita snapped, suddenly throwing a punch. Karla teleported behind Carmelita, quickly using an elbow to hit the vixen in the back of the head. Inspector Fox grunted softly, dropping her paws to the dusty clay-colored ground. She then kicked her leg back, in an attempt to sweep the half-breed who was now behind her.

Karla leapt over the attempted sweep-kick, but didn't anticipate that Carmelita would follow through by pushing off the ground with all her might, immediately pivoting hard and offering a roundhouse kick. It caught the carnation-furred antagonist across the face, knocking her to the ground. The dust settled, but when it did, Karla had teleported again. Carmelita glanced around the area, not seeing her opponent.

Before she could say anything, the half-cat yet half-fox dropped from above, bringing a kick out to catch the Inspector across the face, atrociously brutal. The intense attack threw the vulpine cop from her feet. Carmelita spiraled back, landing in the midst of a heap of fallen bodies. Some were fairly fresh while others were nothing but bones. Limbo had a nefariously hellish feel about it, considering it wasn't hell, itself.

The Interpol agent wasn't finished, however. She rolled onto her back, drawing her pistols and firing two shots from each one. Three of the four rounds missed the half-breed Felox, but one of them actually connected with Karla's chest, ripping through her heart. The inertia knocked Karla Chintzy to the ground but she stood back up, giggling.

"As if I really had a heart; you can't beat me with a bullet to the chest, Carmelita Fox!" Karla cried with a giddy air. She picked up a femur bone from a skeleton's leg, then she twirled it about. Carmelita took another shot but Karla dodged the round. Another shot and Karla evaded that one, as well. The half-breed suddenly sprinted towards Carmelita, smacking the female fox across the side of her face with the chalky white weapon.

Carmelita groaned hard but she kept her cool. She pushed her pistols back into the holsters, reaching her paws up to grab Karla by the fur of her neck and the garment of her clothes, respectively in her left and right paws. Then Miss Fox placed a foot upon Karla's tummy, leaning back to throw the opponent across the field. Karla slammed into the dusty earth, sliding to a halt. A dust cloud swirled about the area while Carmelita came to her feet.

Suddenly, Karla teleported behind Carmelita, picking the Inspector up, with nothing more than bare paws. Carmelita struggled, being lifted high. Then Carmelita's world blinked from her eyes. The shocking realization came when she felt herself floating through the air; she'd been teleported into the sky. She fell, the wind whipping at her face and the collar of her jacket, which beat against her neck. Her paws were put outwards, seeing the ground rushing upwards.

Carmelita slammed into the clay-dirt earth of Limbo with a hard groan. It she had been attacked such a way in the physical realm, it would have surly killed her. The Inspector was beginning to wonder what it would take to kill one another. She felt a paw at the back of her neck and then the vulpine was airborne again. Karla leered at her opponent who slid to a stop, thirty feet away.

Chintzy teleported again, coming to stand besides Carmelita, delivering a brutal kick to the hip. Fox couldn't help but groan, curling her legs inwards in a fetal position for a moment. She reached for Carme's jacket, holding the vixen up by the scruff of her collar. Carmelita wasn't beaten, however.

The clever vulpine put her foot against Karla's chest, pushing off so that her other foot delivered a devastating kick to the pink-furred woman's face. Carmelita completed the somersault and landed gracefully upon her feet. She grinned, pulling the weapons from her holsters again, shooting several rounds into Karla's body. The bullets ruptured through the half-breed, eliciting a scream of pain.

Carmelita placed the barrel against Karla's forehead, whispering, "End of the line, babe. Say hello to the devil for me." She pulled the trigger but wasn't even ready to be surprised for what happened next. As the trigger was pulled, Karla teleported the bullet from the weapon. The next thing Inspector Fox realized was a bullet ripping through the back of her own hip, leaving a flesh wound just above her pelvis.

"Isn't that a pain in the love-handles, sweetie?" Karla said, kicking her leg up to knock Carmelita away. She stood up, dusting herself off with a foul looking smirk. "I am the devil, Carmelita Fox. You're meeting me now and it's time for you to die. Say hello to Saint Peter for me; Immortals never need to arrive at _his_ gates."

The valiant Heroine dove back at Karla, knocking the woman to the ground. They wrestled about, attempting to gain purchase on one another before Carmelita found herself laying flat on her stomach with a weight upon her back. Karla had teleported from beneath her to standing on the vixen's back. "Get off of me you fat-arse!" Cried the French Inspector.

She rolled over quickly, causing Karla to loose her footing. Carmelita reacted with her animal instincts, wrapping her muzzle around Karla's leg, chomping down hard. Her bite snapped through bone and sinew. The ensuing crunch noise was nearly nauseating. Karla's pain bellowed from her diaphragm, but she wasn't yet beaten.

Defensively, Karla teleported Carmelita back into the sky, dropping the vixen from a dramatic height. Carmelita reeled about, kicking wildly as she fell from the sky. Racing towards the ground, Carmelita suddenly grew very still, folding her arms down at her sides. She angled herself so that she became a speeding bullet. Aiming her body, Carmelita crashed into Karla, knocking both to the ground, providing Carmelita was a softer landing, although it still hurt to collide with the busty Felox.

Carmelita sat up, perched upon the other woman's chest, pounding away at the half-breed's pretty feminine visage. In a method of self defense, Karla teleported all four of Carmelita's guns into the air, manipulating them so that they were on all four side's of the vixen's head. The 9mm pistols were cocked and all four were ready to be used on her head.

The Interpol agent was well trained and not about to give up, yet. She evaded the four round bullet tactic by quickly lunging her muzzle at Karla's throat. All four weapons fired, hitting one another, which caused the guns to scatter throughout the immediate area. Karla now had fangs wrapped around her throat, threatening to snap the evil woman's neck in half.

Chintzy wiggled a manicured finger at one of the weapons, causing it to fly through the stale air, until it slammed into the side of Carmelita's head so hard that it left the Inspector dazed, lying on the ground. The Feline-Fox stood up, limping towards the fallen, dizzy officer. She struggled over each step, from the break in her ankle. Karla lifted her pink-furred paws outwards, using her powers to scatter the weapons to a distance that was now completely out of reach; her grin dripping with sin and hatred.

Karla approached Carmelita, wrapping her paws around the Inspector's throat, picking the Inspector up from the pile of bodies. She held the vixen up, in the air, choking her. "This is the end of the line, Miss Fox. I'll be assuming your body. But I have good news: You'll stop aging, once I'm in your body. Then Sly will give me the Diamond and I'll have my way with him and assume the position of the most powerful Super Natural on the planet… one with the ability to produce offspring. I'll be a goddess!"

Carmelita struggled in her grip, feeling the life choked from her. She knew if she lost, that this wannabe (want-to-be) Ghengis Kahn rip-off would win; Karla would take over her body and Sly would eventually die. For once, the raccoon was innocent and as a cop she knew she had a duty to protect the innocent as much as she had a duty to arrest the guilty. But Karla currently had the upper hand and Carmelita Montoya Fox was struggling, gripping at Karla's wrists, trying to pull them from her throat but the half-breed was too strong…

* * *

A/N: _OH NO! Is this supreme evil being going to win? Did I really have enough gull to implement such a massive, complex conspiracy? Making this an all out Good Vs Evil story? Hell yea, i did! hehe :D A lot of people wanted to see Karla dead. The rest of them wanted to see Karla and Carmelita actually duke it out, toe to toe. I'm giving you both! She's dead, they're fighting and for the one or two people that think I should keep her around until the end of the story… I apologize. As much as I like the minority, I'm doing what I can ;)_

_Just wait until you see what I have planned for Clockwerk. Will this supreme evil being take over Clockwerk's body? Will Clockwerk have a say in what's going on? Will the Cooper gang fight, let alone defeat the metal monster owl? It's going to be a real hoot, pardon the owl pun. Hehe. In the next action packed chapter… we'll see fighting, death, destruction, wanton explosions and random things blowing up! Just like in the movies:D But I promise… the story line, from here on out, is actually drafted out. I can't tell you all the details of what will happen because I still don't know that… but I know how I want to end it and how I want to go about getting there… But I don't know what will happen on the way from point A to point B. But I promise, it will be one 'hell' of a ride, pardon the Limbo pun. :D_

_-kit_


	14. A Well Oiled Machine

A/N: _I've been pretty busy at work. Between that, girlfriend time and band practice, I've been putting all my efforts into one story at a time, so that I'm not overwhelmed. I figure I'm really far into this story; I might as well see it to its conclusion before going onto my next project. XD I just want to say… holy cow there are a lot of females in the Sly Cooper Fan Fiction Fandom. With that in mind, I feel vindicated for planning a very romantically written moment between Sly and Carmelita in the near future. I plan for him to sweep her off her feet for a few minutes and I want to melt some hearts in doing it. For those who can't stand Sly and Carmelita pairings, don't fret… I've got a super cool ending that EVERYONE will be able to swallow… And yet you're all going to put your hands on your hips and say, "you'd BETTER write a sequel, I SWEAR!" but I don't know when I would get the chance… so… maybe ;)_

_I just wanted to do an INTREAGUE style ending. Think Steven King. :;looks evil;: Muwahaha. _

_Okay, time for chapter 14! I went through a lot of names for this chapter. Inadvertent Super Heroes, The Cooper Gang Remix, Double Prison Break… I finally decided to do a play on words that could mean either "TEAMWORK" or "CLOCKWERK" and called it…

* * *

_

Chapter 14: A Well Oiled Machine

**Murray gave a tug on the bars** but they were pretty solid. He had been captured before and while this place wasn't using high power hypnotic equipment and spice chemicals to break his will, it was certainly just as creepy. But the thing was, Murray wasn't the average find. He wasn't quite a child, but he was certainly a child at heart, sometimes.

The cell was fairly simple. It was an odd thing to have in a bank but it was obvious that this bank was outfitted for the needs of these villains. His cell, however, wasn't an electronically locked one, like everyone else had. Murray frowned thoughtfully, seeing it as a sort of insult, but at the same time, it was probably better than he didn't have some high tech lock and key to keep him here.

"I could sure go for a bag of Carmelita's Jelly Beans right about now. I hate getting put behind bars," The hippo groused to himself, turning away from the bars and facing the wall with a sigh.

From out of the blue, a voice came to Murray's ear. "Hey, pal. You've just landed on the Chance Card spot. Low and behold, you've been awarded a 'Get Out Of Jail Free' Card. Would you like to redeem this voucher, good sir?" The voice was none-other than Sly Cooper, making a Monopoly connotation with a sharp grin. Murray turned about, quickly.

"Sly!" He bellowed in delight. The boisterous hippo ran across his cell, wrapping his hands around the bars. "Before they separated us, Bentley told me about a warehouse, here in Prague, where I can find the tank that I used against Neyla's forces, back when we were stealing the Clockwerk Eyes! ( A/N: _Sly2 BoT _) Remember that? He gave me the passkey to get back in there and it's not far from here!"

"You and Bentley were locked in here, together?" Sly asked, raising his brows.

Murray shrugged. "I guess they figured he'd find some way to override an electric gate, so they'd given us the old fashion kind. He tried picking the lock on this one but I guess it was _too _old fashion; he gave it a good try though."

"Leave lock picking to the thieves," Sly said with a playful grin. "Can you get to that tank, Murray? We might need it more than you know, in order to get out of here. We might even need it against Clockwerk," Sly added with an adjunction of seriousness to his tone.

"If you can get me out of here, I can get that tank with no problem," Murray insisted, continuing, "I'm a driver; I don't forget my way around a town like this, I'll bring it back here using back roads, then I'll put it out back and keep it concealed."

"How do you conceal a tank, Murray?" Sly asked, scrunching his eyebrows. "That's a big boxy thing with a gun turret, after all, pal." Sly lifted his cane over his shoulder, using the hook to scratch an annoying itch. Murray blinked, seeing Cooper's left leg twitch from the back scratching.

"Sly, it's snowing pretty hard," replied the hippopotamus in a knowing sort of voice. "It's in a maintenance shed. I'll just grab a snow shovel and bring it with me. When I get it out back, I'll shovel snow up onto it. Between that and the snow storm, I'll have it buried. The Murray is up for the task! We've got to stop Clockwerk. People of the world are counting on _us_, Sly!"

Cooper grinned lopsidedly, pulling his blue hat from atop of his head. He reached his fingers into the fabric stitching, pulling out an old fashion lock pick, then made short work of the gate. "Good as new, pal. Good luck getting that tank; it's snowing awfully hard out there, don't get yourself hurt, big guy. And be careful driving that tank in the snow. I'm rooting for ya."

"Don't worry about me driving the tank," Murray chuckled, pulling his driving goggles down over his eyes. "Rommel is my middle name ," the hippo joked, causing a grin to tug at the corner of Sly's muzzle.

"We've got to hurry, pal," Sly told him, adding, "Penelope is upstairs, on the third floor. I'm going back for Carmelita and Bentley; they're on the third floor, too. Can you manage?"

The Hippo gave a tug at his driving gloves, so that the leather creaked, being stretched tight. "The Murray is on the case!" He announced, taking the bars of the gate and forcing them to slide open with a loud clang. Sly gestured with his palms, pushing them outwards in the ever popular 'patty cake' sort of way, as if to gesture for quiet. Murray saw it and grinned sheepishly, "Oops. Sorry, got a little excited. Anyway, don't worry about Penelope, I'll get her and you get everyone else. Once Penelope is free, I'll get the tank ready."

Sly gave a 'thumbs up' then dashed off, leaving Murray to find his own way to a set of stairs. Cooper kicked in the next door he came to, which just happened to be a stairwell. He hopped up, upon the railing and ascended it, one foot in front of the next. It was better than steps, because for someone with his balance, it was like running up a ramp, instead of marching up a staircase.

At the top of the stairs, two guards were rounding the corner, just in time for Sly to cross their paths. He was quick, locking his ankles and bending his knees. The master thief, using his ultra quiet slide technique, glided between the two of them, using his cane to grab one, throwing him into the other. Sly then lifted the cane like a bat and swung his entire body, to put his weight behind the strike.

Once the guards were on the ground, dazed and confused, Sly tapped the end of his cane against the floor, causing a puff of smoke to billow from the bottom. He then jumped upwards, throwing his feet over his head in a somersault, landing on the outside of the smoke plume. From there, he continued his sprint, heading for Bentley and Carmelita.

Hurrying through the hall, Sly lifted his cane upwards, catching the backside of a security camera, as he entered a new hallway. Finally, he planted the cane into the ground, vaulting forward and extending his right leg. His knee locked and his heel caught the door hard, knocking it open hard enough to startle Bentley, in the cell. The plush carpet, covered with brown stains from a prior combat in this hallway, whispered noisily from the raccoon's footfalls. He sprinted up to the bars and came to a quick halt.

"How is she?" Sly asked.

"You're back! You rescued everyone that fast?" Bentley asked, followed by, "She's all right, but dehydrated. Every so often, Carmelita mutters in parables. It's rather cryptic but oddly enough I'm able to comprehend what she's talking about."

"Well?" Sly asked, tilting his head.

"It's…" Bentley shook his head slowly, "Stuff you'd recognize if you've read Milton's 'Paradise Lost' or know much about the occult." Before Sly could protest or ask anything further, Bentley added, "When you've learned about semi-magical things like Bad Mojo (A/N: _Sly2 BoT_), you've learned about magical, worldly, celestial and biblical, Sly. It's just for the sake of knowledge."

Sly put his paws up, "It's the occult, sure, but there's no need to get defensive, Bentley. What's she talking about, in her sleep?"

Bentley glanced down at Carmelita's silent body then lifted his gaze back up to Cooper. He took his glasses off and began to clean the lenses with a sigh. "She's cursing at someone. She's referred to them by every name in the 9 levels of Hell. She said them as insults. She referred to them as Lucifer, Mammon, Asmodeus, Leviathan, Beelzebub, Satan and Belphegor. She swears that she's fighting 'the Morningstar', but that's impossible. The devil doesn't exist, it's a fairytale to show young children morality."

Sly quirked a brow, tilting his head. "That's pretty deep, do you think she'll be all right?"

"I don't know, but let's get out of here before that Lion guy comes back," Bentley pleaded. "He freaks me out," The turtle told him, shaking his head. "I'll help guide you through using the terminal in the next room, so you can unlock these bars. If you hurry, we can all get out of here and fall back on my backup plan, letter C, which I've instructed for Murray."

"The tank? Good idea, but I want to give Clockwerk the personal touch, first. If there's some way to personally stick a wrench in his gears, I want to be the one there, doing it." Sly noted with a reaffirming nod. "I'll carry Carmelita and you can hold onto my back. I think that should be enough balance for me to do everything I need to do to get us all out of here quickly." Sly went to the doorway where the cell controls were, turning the knob…

* * *

**Carmelita Montoya Fox** was fighting, not only for her life, but for her very existence. The pugnacious pink-furred princess, Karla Chintzy, threw her arms up, using her wrists to instinctively block Carmelita's left and right jab, only to teleport once more. She reappeared behind Carmelita, throwing her arms around the vixen's neck, squeezing tightly. 

"You may have escaped me earlier, but I'll suffocate the life from your body, one way or another!" Karla screamed into Carmelita's ear. Inspector Fox reached her paws up, grabbing Karla's forearms. She then doubled forward, bowing over quickly, to cause Karla to be thrown over the vixen's shoulder.

Karla slammed into the dusty, dry earth with a thud. A plume of scarlet rose up about her form then the clay colored dust settled over her body. She lay still for a moment. Carmelita tilted her head, approaching cautiously. "Are you dead, you dimwitted cow?" The vulpine cop nudged the body with her toe.

Karla was still. "There's no way I'm falling for it," Carmelita said, pulling her Glock hand-cannon from its holster. She didn't pull the trigger yet because with Karla lying still, the woman had the concentration necessary to do that 'bullet teleporting' trick again. Carmelita was already hurting from a painfully un-fatal bullet wound, she wasn't ready to risk that chance again. She would have to make sure Karla was busy or distracted next time the gun was fired.

Carmelita lifted the gun, seeing that Karla's eyes were shut. She grinned then pistol whipped the half-breed across the muzzle, eliciting a shout of pain from Karla. The woman rolled over, coming to her feet, seeing her bluff was called. Carmelita, on the other paw, just grinned. "Thought I was going to pull the trigger didn't you?" She chided, drawing her fist back, to use the gun as a brutal melee weapon.

Karla anticipated the swing and disappeared but Carmelita was ready, having second guessed the half-feline's next move. The vixen spun about, swinging the pistol through the air behind herself, right as Karla appeared in that space. The gun slammed across the carnation and milky fur mixture over the half-breed's face, hard. Karla staggered back, a surprised look in her face.

Chintzy growled softly. "Carmelita, I've misjudged you. I thought you would be such an easy kill that I would just go easy to make it last longer but now I see I should unleash my full ability upon you!"

"Bring it on; I'll get you," Miss Fox snapped, drawing her fists back after putting the pistol back into the holster.

"Lend me your power, Nagan!" Karla shouted to the sky. As Carmelita lifted her head, she saw the dark cloud that was once in the shape of Clockwerk, beginning to billow throughout the heavens. For an instant, she could have sworn she saw a dark outline of what could only be described as a woman, holding a harp. She had middle eastern features and was rather pretty.

In that instance, Carmelita could make out the silhouette's form enough to tell that it was a serpent. The snake-like creature, hypnotically beautiful, plucked softly at the harp, playing an ancient Babylonian hymn. "Who in the heck…?" Carmelita blinked rapidly.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Karla chided playfully, "Don't know your mythology or ancient religious historical knowledge?" Her smile grew. "It's Nagash, the musical serpent of Babylon. She played music in the Garden of Eden. You have _no idea_ who _you're_ dealing with, Carmelita Montoya Fox. You cannot defeat evil; you are but one mortal woman. And now, you will watch the fall of the Physical realm from the white picket fence of Heaven, when I BANISH YOU THERE!"

Karla threw her arms upwards and the roaring glow of fire and brimstone rose upwards, consuming her form. She was engulfed with the power of the True Father of Caine, standing before the mortal Vixen. Her pink fur had a darker tint to it. The fiery strands of those now-rusty bangs lifted upwards as if compelled by an unseen force.

"Having blood-red fur and a bad case of static cling doesn't scare me," Carmelita grumbled, narrowing her eyes. It was true, she had no comprehension of what she was up against. But what she also didn't realize was that she was the right person to go up against this darkness. Carmelita Fox had a pure heart. She believed in right against wrong, good against evil and most importantly, she believed in love, fidelity, marriage and despite her emotional temper, never allowed herself to be completely consumed by wrath.

She was a pure-hearted woman. She was authentic, unsullied, and she was against the practice of unlawfulness. Carmelita Fox, when it came down to it, was an Angel with an attitude. Karla began a sprint, looking to throw the full force of her weight, backed with hatred and clouded with darkness, into her tackle attempt. Carmelita watched her approached and an odd, eerie sense of calm came over her, possibly for the first time ever.

The Inspector's eyes narrowed to slits. Her arm lifted and with the virtuous power of nobility and honor standing behind her, the valorous vixen was firm like an anchored tree. She stepped to the side and when Karla connected with her out-stretched arm, it knocked the half-breed flat onto her back. The momentum carried Karla several more feet, until she rolled to a stop. Inertia was a cruel mistress.

Chintzy stood up, glowering. _She _was allowing _wrath _to overcome her and the animosity and hate was all consuming. She teleported again, but for the first time, Carmelita could actually see everything. It was as if time had come to a near crawl and Karla quickly attempted to run around the Inspector so that she could stand behind Miss Fox but Carmelita could see the maneuver in slow motion.

Carme Fox reached out for Karla, grasping her gun with her right fist while using her left paw to knock the half breed down once again. The clever vulpine then brandished the pistol and fired. The bullet ripped from the barrel slowly in a cloudy burst of gunpowder flash. The round lanced forth, striking Karla in her other shoulder. With such a force, the sinfully created spawn of Iniquity was thrown into a hard spin before she could get all the way back to her feet.

Having only risen to her knees, the bullet threw her across the linier battlefield. She plowed through bodies of the defeated, skidding to a halt several meters away. Carmelita approached the woman, replacing the gun within its holster. She watched Karla raise from the darkness to one knee. Inspector Fox brought her right leg upwards instinctively, catching the half-cat under the jaw. It lifted the woman upwards, causing her to land flat on her back with a groan.

"You can never have Sly," Carmelita said. "You can never have my body; We're not as gullible as Adam and Eve. I don't care where the two of you began or where the two of you will end. Just know that I am Carmelita Fox. Your ass is grass and I'm the gardener. This is my lawnmower," She added, pulling the two weapons from their sheaths once more, opening fire repeatedly.

"Don't you realize," Karla screamed, throwing her arms up instinctively to defend herself from the bullets that screamed out of the weapon. "I am Lilith reborn! The Babylonian-Assyrian demon, Lilit! Lilu! I presented myself to Isaiah well over a millennia ago, in another body. I've been brought here to fight and have never been defeated! I will make your body my next host; you are powerless, mortal whelp!" The ancient symbol glyphs that were branded into the fur around her bosom began to incandesce.

"Then it's time _some_one shut you up," Carmelita snapped, firing the two powerful magnum pistols until the magazines were empty. She ejected the clip-like tubes, which clattered to the ground. Her paws lowered, seeking to slap fresh magazines home but the injured Karla wasn't about to allow that to happen. She closed her paw, causing both of Carmelita's weapons to go flying from her grip once more.

The two 9mm Berettas she'd not yet used were strewn about the battlefield, having been missing since Karla had used her powers to throw them earlier (A/N: _Chapter 13_). The vixen simply narrowed her eyes. "I've had enough of you. I've got more important things to do than to play games with you, woman," Fox snapped, lifting her right paw and throwing the hardest punch she could muster. Karla had been concentrating on using her powers against the weapons and was unprepared for such a strike.

Carmelita's punch struck with the force of thunder, knocking Karla through the air so hard that she landed on her back several feet away. The half-feline was completely dazed, trying to sit up but struggled to regain her equilibrium. A soft groan was issued from the half-breed immortal. Carmelita never stopped. She was immediately upon the other woman, following through with a powerful kick.

The truculent Inspector immediately grasped a hold of Karla's hair. Carmelita put one foot forward to gain a stance of balance, then she leaned back, swinging hard. To Karla's surprise, the reborn succubus was lifted from the ground, spun about and thrown to the dusty earth with incredible force. Carmelita was riled up but she wasn't consumed by wrath the way Karla had allowed _her_self to be.

Chintzy let out a visceral scream of frustration, trying to stand up only to be slammed to the ground again. She wasn't able to do so much as move without Carmelita being right there to beat her to the hardened clay floor once more. Karla's countenance showed fear painted upon her visage for the first time, when her eyes were met with Carmelita's own. However, she was not ready to surrender, yet.

Karla was exasperated and humiliated, shouting, "This land of perdition, the outer layers of the Dark State, should become your personal tomb like those that you see littering the ground for miles, here, Carmelita!"

"Shut your mouth and fight, witch," Inspector Fox replied, reaching back for her holster, beneath her jacket. Her paw wrapped around something familiar. The soft padding of her palm closed about the weapon beneath her jacket and her claws brushed together lightly once she held the object in her fist. Karla was coming to her feet once more, just as Carmelita brandished the destructive weapon.

It reflected in Karla Chintzy's eyes. Outlined with a yellow stripe and embroidered with an equally golden star upon its side. The object, which was emblazoned in a metallic crimson tincoat coloration, shinned with an unsubtle radiance. Within the depths of the barrel, a cerulean glow emanated, incandescing from deep inside. The glow illuminated Karla's face as it grew. The world seemed to revolve around only these two combatants and time stood still.

Without further warning, the electric bolt was unleashed and behind it was the counter of Good. Because Karla had called upon evil to help her cheat this fight, the power of light stood behind Carmelita's pistol shot. When it was unleashed, the devastating sapphire discharge lanced forward. Carmelita's azure bangs were pushed upwards as the electronic discharge caused static, among other forms of current, to come together in this awesome blast.

Carmelita was thrown backwards from the unexpectedly devastating blast power. The round consumed Karla, blowing her clear across the dusty battlefield. Her fur was burned away and all that remained was her true form… The iniquitous dark angel of Evil. The injured immortal stood up and she was completely different before Carmelita now.

The woman was a plain biped demoness. Her body was a dark as a raven and her demonic wings towered from behind her with talons at the tip of each wing. The fiendish imp had glowing eyes that radiated her impurity. She was sullied, defiled and her twisted inner state was now emphasized by her lewd outer appearance.

"So that's what a lecher looks like on the inside, huh?" Carmelita said, glancing back down to her Shock Pistol. It had drained its entire battery cell on that one powerful shot. The plasma discharge caused the golden stripe around the edge of the barrel to chip and the paint to bubble up from the intense heat of the previous shot. She abandoned it, tossing it to the ground. A wisp of steam rose from it, once it skittered to a halt on the clay earth.

Carmelita reached into her jacket pocket, pulling out two sandy-colored gloves. She pulled them over her paws, tugging them up over her wrists. She then pushed her paws together, cracking her knuckles before intertwining her fingers and inverting them to crack her knuckles a second time. The sound was laced with a thunder that rolled across the sky in the distance. "_You_'re going down, freak," The feminine fox mused in an almost thoughtful sort of way.

"Devastating shock blast, I'll admit," Karla said, panting softly from her injuries. Most of her wounds were beneath that which could be optically perceived. In fact, she didn't even seem to be phased other than the way she looked winded and stood with her shoulders slumped. But the truth of the matter was that she was hurting within.

Carmelita simply smirked. She glanced over her shoulder then began to approach the succubus. They approached one another and met in the middle, and the clash of good against evil was in full swing. Karla immediately wrapped her hands around Carmelita's neck and her demonic wings around the vixen's body, trying to smother her.

The Inspector lifted her paws, slamming her right and left knuckles into Karla's face, breaking Karla's nose. The demon jerked her head back in surprise. For the first time, she could taste the salty, metallic taste of blood on her tongue, as if she were a mere mortal. Her hands released Carmelita who continued with her offensive attack. The vixen threw her arms outwards, breaking Karla's winged shroud from her body, then immediately spun about, delivering a devastating roundhouse.

The kick caught Karla across the side of her face, throwing the demon to the ground with tremendous force. Karla Chintzy's flesh was that of the most abysmal ebon hues. Her eyes were of the same coloration. Those narrowed coals burned with hatred and animosity. She leapt from the ground, reaching for Carmelita who acted on instinct.

Inspector Fox, partially through her police defense training and partially through the guiding hand of The Creator, took the demon by the horns. Carmelita shifted her weight by pivoting on her heel, throwing Karla to the ground with such force that it cracked the clay field all around the impact site. Karla's tail was now a long, narrow rod of flesh with a spiked tip that flitted with frustration and annoyance.

She tried to stand up but Carmelita was too quick. The vixen delivered a powerful kick beneath the devil's chin, throwing the evil woman into the air, only to land on the ground hard, once more. Karla scrambled to her feet, quickly throwing her arms outwards towards Carmelita but nothing happened.

"Why can't I teleport you!" She screamed angrily. "I called for the power of the devil, where is my power!" She abandoned her attempts and began to sprint towards Carmelita. Karla took the fox's neck in her hand and shifted her weight, leading into a throw that caused Carmelita to be ejected across the field. The weary Inspector plowed into a pile of bodies, stacked up on the ground. Once she stood up, dusting herself off, it was time to attack again.

* * *

Meanwhile… 

**Sly returned, pushing the cell bars **open. He knelt down so that Bentley could climb onto his back but with the bionic leg attachment, he was heavier than ever before. However, the legs were comprised of lightweight titanium and so it wasn't beyond the raccoon's lifting ability. He then eased his paws beneath Carmelita's body, carefully lifting her to his chest before standing.

"Now this is weight training and endurance exercise," Sly grunted.

Holding onto his friend tightly, Bentley muttered, "I just hope your stamina holds out, Sly." Carmelita's head lulled back over Sly's right wrist. A filmy sort of paste dribbled from her muzzle, down the side of her neck, collecting on the floor. Sly winced, seeing how dehydrated she was. Bentley sighed softly, shaking his head. "We've got to secure immediate liquid hydration before pressing on, Sly. Maybe we can find a public lavatory somewhere nearby. I'm surprised the jail cells don't have anything more than a crummy toilet in the corner."

"Face it buddy," Sly said, balancing the weight carefully as he made his way out into the hallway. "The bad guys don't like showing their guests any sort of hospitality," The raccoon added with a slight semblance of a chuckle. "Now let's get you guys out of here so I can finish what I started against Clockwerk."

"Sly, no," Bentley said, shaking his head rapidly. He leaned up over Sly's shoulder, watching where the thief was heading. "We've got to do this together. I'm terrified of these goons but even with every fiber of my body protesting against a direct offensive… I'm afraid it is the only means possible for success of this mission!"

"I don't think it's just a mission anymore, Bentley," Sly quipped, heading out of the hallway and into the next area. "We've got to stop Clockwerk at any and all costs; A mission can succeed or fail but I don't see failure as an option here, pal."

"You are completely correct," Bentley mused. "Failure is not an option. This is less of a mission and more of an epic battle. Maybe we should hide Carmelita's body in a safe place once we're able to hydrate her. Then we can stop Clockwerk and pick her up on the way out, if we survive!"

"Sounds dangerous," Sly chided.

The turtle sneezed over Sly's shoulder. "The probability of our survival is below the recommended safety standards for all of my other plans. It's an undecidedly dangerous objective filled with peril and a high possibility of certain doom," Bentley blathered, in a near rant. He sneezed again, adding, "I'm allergic to the thought of dying."

"Sounds fun," Sly replied with a grin. "Can you fight without your crossbow?"

"Are you kidding?" Bentley conceded with pride. "These legs are state of the art in modern combat programming. That and Carmelita is armed to the teeth with all of my gear!"

"There's that," Sly chuckled, turning down the next hallway. There was a bathroom up ahead. Sly shrugged to himself and carried the two of them into the women's lavatory, setting Carmelita down on the floor. Bentley released Sly's shoulder, dropping to the floor; his bionic legs extended, cushioning his fall. Sly couldn't help but breath a sigh of relief.

The raccoon turned to the sink and placed his paws beneath the faucet which had a motion sensor under the spout. Cool water pooled into his paws, which he carefully cradled to Carmelita's muzzle. With Bentley's help, lifting her head at a better angle, they fed her water from the spigot for several minutes in this fashion. Once Bentley seemed satisfied that they had done what they could, he gave a reaffirming nod.

"Let's leave her here. It's near the stairs and we can stop by on our way out _if we're lucky_," The tortoise decided aloud.

"Why Bentley… I didn't know you believed in luck," Sly said with a grin. "Think you can keep up with me or should I carry you again?"

"I don't believe in luck but if it exists, we'll certainly need it right about now," Bentley explained, adding, "I want to hit the Laboratory at two angles, simultaneously. Boost me up to the vents and I'll go in that way. You go in through the main doors, just stay out of sight."

"Roger that," Sly said, placing his paws on either side of his friend's shell beneath the little man's arms. Bentley was lifted upwards and deposited into the ventilation register. "Good luck, Bent. I'll see you in the lab. Maybe we can beat the crap out of that engineer who's rebuilding Clockwerk _if we're lucky_. Stay quiet in there."

"Thanks for the advice," Bentley mumbled, reaching to adjust his glasses before starting to crawl through the vent shaft. After a moment, he was out of range. Sly turned back to Carmelita and knelt besides her. He leaned forward, covering her lips with his own for a moment before whispering something into her ear. With that done, he stood up and left the bathroom, heading for the Lab.

* * *

**Murray stopped in front of Penelope's cell,** placing his hands on the bars. They were solid; he would have to find a way to destroy the locking mechanism. "Hiya, Penelope. I'm here to rescue you while Sly and Bentley figure out how to stop Clockwerk. Uhm, got any ideas how I can open this gate?" 

Penelope, ever grateful, nodded emphatically. "We'll need to shut down power to the immediate area, so the lock will release. This cell has fuses that need to be pulled. From there, I think you should be able to pry the gate open with your bare hands, Murray!"

"Right! Where?" Murray said, going from equally enthusiastic to looking lost again.

Penelope pointed at a box across the hallway. "Just be careful. I've been seeing guards pace this hallway every few minutes like clock work… Sorry," She added, realizing the poor pun that had come from her statement. "Just pull the one marked for this cell."

Murray approached the fuse panel and opened it. He squinted at the lettering but most of the pen markings were rubbed off or faded. "I can't tell which one is the right one! I'm going to just pull some fuses then put'em back in, if it doesn't work. Here we go!" He said, taking the initiative. Who was Penelope to argue at this point? Murray got to work pulling out small cylinder fuses one at a time, replacing each one until he got to the cell.

The lights inside the cell went dark, leaving only the recessed lighting in the hallway. There was a metallic click from the jail gate. Murray closed the fuse panel and approached the bars pulling on them hard until the gate hopped over the track, coming clean off the cell. It collapsed to the ground with a loud noise, causing Murray to wince, covering his mouth. "Uh oh… sorry about that. We should probably get out of here quick."

Before Murray could react, three guards came into the room. The rent-a-cop canines quickly surrounded the both of them, holding nightsticks. The initial one brandished his billy-club but Murray was quick to deliver a punch that knocked not only the first cop down but another officer who was standing behind the first. Penelope, not wanting to be a damsel in distress, executed some of the jabs and punches she used against Sly when she was dressed up as the Black Baron in the past.

The little white mouse threw her left and right paws out, dazing one of the hired security workers. Murray grabbed one cop, lifting the dog above his head, only to throw him into the guy that Penelope was fighting. She hopped over the fallen officer, snatching a broom up against a nearby wall. The police were quick to their feet, two of which were trying to overpower Murray. The other one turned to Penelope, brandishing the club.

Penelope broke the broom over her knee at the hilt, right against the thicker patch of denim sewn into her pants, taking the pole and using it like a crude fencing sword. She brought the shaft up against the nightstick, rolling her wrist to skillfully guide his weapon upwards. The witty mouse used the end of the broom handle, poking the guard in the nose hard. She followed through by lifting her right foot and stomped on the cop's well polished dress shoes, adding a jab to the nose before pushing him back.

The rational rodent then gave the broom handle a light twirl as if it was a marching baton, to gain momentum. At the end of her maneuver, she gave a hard swing, knocking the officer's melee weapon clean out of the terrier's paws. It clattered across the floor, tripping one of the cops that Murray was fighting. Penelope grinned happily, seeing that the foe was nearly dispatched.

With one cop down, Murray was able to knock the other cop out, leaving the one on the ground, who was still conscious. Penelope, fighting her own guard, delivered another jab to the guard's snout, following through with a thrust of the broom handle. Its tip connected with the officer's forehead, hitting rather hard. The cop reached his paws up, to favor this new injury, just in time for Penelope to spin around and whack him across the gut.

Murray punched the floor hard enough to cause the remaining officer, who had been tripped, to be launched into the air, winding up in Murray's grasp. The hippo raised him high above his head then threw the rent-a-cop into the other officer that Penelope was fighting. Within just a few short minutes, the two had made quick work of three trained security guards. "Let's get out of here," Penelope said, a little giddy from the fighting. They gave one another a high five and bolted for the door, together.

* * *

**In the hallway outside of the vault**, Steven had increased security. The Sire was still nowhere in sight and for that small miracle, Sly was thankful. The problem was, it would be difficult to go in through the main doors, with the guards in place. The Procyon Lotor gave a flip of his cane, spinning the staff in his paw. He wasn't so very sure about fighting a group of 5 guards on his own. 

Finally, Sly decided that luring a few away from their post would make dispatching his opponents a bit easier. All five men were some sort of canine. Three of them were terriers and two of them were setters. Not the most champion of dog fighters but all five of them seemed to make good rental cops. Sly crept back towards the nearest maintenance closet and pulled a switch down on the electric box found within. The lights in the hallway outside of the vault dimmed dramatically.

"What happened?" One of the guards asked.

"I think a bulb might have blown out," Another said, immediately cut off by a third canine guard.

"No, you idiot," Said the third, "There are a series of lights in each track. They didn't all burn out. I'll go and check the fuse box. Don't leave your post; I'll be back in a moment." The third one, one of the spaniels, rounded the corner and headed for the janitorial closet, opening the door. Suddenly a hook grabbed his uniform from behind.

The dog was lifted into the air and slammed into the wall hard. Sly's infamous stealth strike was as cunning as ever, knocking the dog into another time zone. Cooper gave a grin, using the cane to tug the body into the closet, stuffing him in there and closing the door. He then waited in silence.

A few minutes later, another guard came looking for the first. This time it was one of the terriers. Sly employed a variant of the same maneuver. He swung the cane upwards, knocking the guard into the air, only to grab the guard by his clothes, slamming him back down hard. With the second guard unconscious, Sly stuffed him into the closet. He then pushed the door shut and barred it with a metal Fire-axe in a glass case in the wall, meant for Fire fighting use.

Sly grabbed the fire hose that was in the same case and uncoiled it, dragging the 100 feet of hose down the hall. He wound the nozzle end around the hook of his cane then swung the cane like a bat. The nozzle was thrown clear out into the hallway, colliding with one of the guards. Sly quickly used the hook of his cane to grab part of the hose, running towards the three cops in the dark. His natural nocturnal raccoon eye sight made it easy to fight in dim lighting.

He wound one end of the fire hose around another guard's neck, looping the nozzle through another guard's legs and around his waist. Sly then used the cane's hook to pull the remaining spaniel canine's head forward, grabbing the hose in his paw and wrapping it around the dog's neck, down under his arms, between his legs then over to the next guard. Once Cooper was satisfied that they were all tangled up in the fire hose, he made a hard sprint, dashing back to where the fire hose lead to the glass case in the next hallway.

With a quick flick of his wrist, Sly used his cane to hit the metal wheel hard, spinning it wildly. Water gushed through the hose, causing it to harden up immediately with immense pressure. Sly peeked around the corner, seeing all three guards, still tangled up in the hose, get thrown in three different directions hard. Sly stepped in the hallway, snatched the nozzle off the floor and pulled down on the metal lever.

Water gushed out of the nozzle with such force that Sly struggled to control the oversized water gun. High power water shot from the end so hard that it bowled over one of the cops before he could manage to stand all the way up. Cooper then threw the nozzle hard at the second guard, which the canine caught in his paws.

Sly gave a grin then tugged hard on the hose, using his cane, yanking the cop from his feet so that he careened into his partner, knocking both down. With another tug on the hose, Sly pulled the nozzle back into his paws and opened fire on the two cops on the ground, hitting them with tremendously intense hydra vigor. Sly somersaulted forward, landing between all three fallen guards.

He then lifted his cane like a bat, paused, then swung hard. He pivoted into a full circle, clocking each of the three men across their heads. The trio was rendered unconscious and Sly gave a twirl of his cane with a smirk. "Watching Jackie Chan movies really does wonders," the Raccoon chortled, turning to the Laboratory doors, wrapping his paw around the handle. It was time to finish this business once and for all. He gave a tug on the door, opening it slowly. His jaw began to drop and then suddenly….

* * *

A/N: _OH NO! I did it again… I threw a cliffhanger your way! Now you don't know what's going to happen to Carmelita or Sly! You have no idea what's waiting for Sly on the other side of that door! You have no idea if Carmelita is going to be all right! But I think everyone got their tail handed to them in this chapter… Sly beat some sorry tail, Penelope and Murray tackled a few guards and Carmelita beat the tar out of Karla for trying to cheat in an epic battle of good against evil. She was betrayed when Evil didn't come through for her… or was she? You'll find out in Chapter 15, I promise! _

_Also, you'll see more of Bentley using his bionic leg things like he did a few chapters ago… That was awesome, I can't just keep him from using them to fight, again. Also, Carmelita has to wake up SOME time… and Murray and Penelope are now on the loose. _

_However, we now know where all our heroes are… so where are the villains? Where is The Reaper? What about The Sire and Steven the skunk? Is Clockwerk finished yet? What about the diamond in the Cooper Vault? Finally, where is Donovan Loupe in all of this? Hiding in the shadows, watching, maybe? Is he really not in league with the bad guys like he told Carmelita? After all, he did bring Bentley to Sly's cage and help Sly by giving him the pendant of Iron Will…_

_There sure are a lot of characters to keep track of… but it won't be so hard after the next chapter. I plan on simplifying everyone's position so it's less to keep track of, during the next chapter. That way no one gets lost as I get deeper into this… Thanks for reading! Chapter 15 will be out soon!_

_All the strange "stuff about evil" from this chapter can be found in A) your Bible, B) Google or C) Wikipediea (That site has EVERYthing)._

_Yeah, I made this into a story of Good Vs Evil, because you just don't see those anymore... and if you do, it's usually not done well. I'm not say I do things well or not, but I wanted to try my hand at it and give it the complexity it needed to be a believable evil. Carmelita, who has never done anything wrong in her life, is a pretty rightious person to fight, eh? Will she and Sly find true love or will it willow away, eroding into nothing...? _

_Find out soon! Same Sly Time, same Sly Channel!_


	15. 398683

A/N: _Can anyone figure out what this chapter's name comes from? Let's see how Karla and Carmelita are doing… Oh, and like, right after I posted chapter 14, for like, the first few days afterI put it up, no one posted a reviewand so, at first, I worried that the chapter may have been over the top; was it?_

_I have no problems taking bad reviews or a blatant "WTF Kit?" just let me know ;) I know I took this story way over the top… but I want everyone to know how imperative it is for Carmelita and the Cooper gang to triumph… the world is honestly, literally at stake if they don't pull strings… and while the world will always be at stake on some plain or some field, somewhere, it's someone else's fight by that point… but it will really lend to how paramount the ending will be. Muwahaha. _

_I got a really cool review that made me smile when I read it. It said I was on the border line of amazing and possibly insulting which will attest to just how vile evil can be. I kind of feel like I've touched onthe darkness I meant to portray. _

_I've got good news, by the way! I beat Sly2! Excellent!_

_As far as differences in Jewish, Christian and Muslim religions go, they all begin in a way that's fairly related, leading up to around the time of Abraham. I went to a Catholic middle school as a kid and remember a few things, here and there but I keep an open mind and try to learn a little bit about everything. I've got some Jewish and Mormon friends who read this story and, so far, compliment me on putting research into something I can't even sell… It doesn't matter if I can make money on this… it matters that you people enjoy it enough to keep reading my work. One day, when I'm publishing my manuscripts, I want to know I've got at least a few people I've befriended online who will go out and buy my books :D StarFox has no room to touch on religion and I do mention a few things in The Curse, like "The Lion born of a Tigress" and such. But this is set on Earth which has a few billion believers in a metaphorically derived version (or variation of) the Old Testament. _

_Carmelita is being portrayed as someone who's fighting the good fight, not because she has to or wants to, but because she believes that Good is worth fighting for; God or No God. That makes her faith in the forces of Good seem rather Epic. _

_Finally, Karla isn't "Lilith". Evil, temptation, sin, deceit, all that stuff… it all goes hand in hand as Karla is simply exercising deceit by announcing that she IS Lilith. Finally, whether or not God gives people second chances who were evil, allowing them to come back and give it "one more try" could or could not be a lie, as evil cannot help but tempt or deceive. But then those of us who are sentimental won't feel so bad about Carmelita destroying Karla… It keeps hopes alive that she might get a chance to be good in the future. Whether it's true or not isn't the point… it's a story, so Karla's soul isn't in jeopardy :D_

_While I've not read Dan Brown (and honestly, the last books I've read were Rainbow6 by Tom Clancy, The Stand by Steven King and Jurassic Park & Lost World by Michael Creighton, back in the early-to-mid 90's), I highly appreciate the comparison and the thought-out review! It's inspiring :D_

_My 90 day trial version of Word2003 has ended. I'm using an un-pro Word Processor wannabe. It's fired. Lol. I'll be reinstalling the trial version again soon so my Grammar will be kinda slipping until then XD. Sorry for the rant! Hugs and Kisses to you all for putting up with my blathering, woot! _

_Can anyone tell me what the numbers in this chapter name are refering to?_

_In the last chapter, we basically left off with Sly and Bentley giving Carmelita's body water and Sly kissed her and whispered something tender into her ear, back in the physical world… I begin with Carmelita's reaction to that water and that kiss, in Limbo… Enjoy! _

* * *

Chapter 15: "398683"

**Carmelita shivered, feeling a warm sense of tender love **pour into her ear. It was as wonderful as the memory of Sly Cooper whispering pillow talk to her well over a year ago. She shuttered, loving the sensation of emotional bliss even though it only lasted for a moment. Right about then is when she started feeling pretty good. She fought intense thirst up to this point and now… that too had passed. Karla could tell that Carmelita was feeling rejuvenated half-way through the fight and it caused the demon to growl in frustration.

Karla, having fallen into a side-stepping gait, said, "First we have a political government that will Control the free world. Something massive like the Conference of the United Nations. Then _HE_ will come and rule it and we'll march through the streets of you puny beings."

"Enough with the bible talk and the revelations crap, just _FIGHT_ so I can kick your tail," Carmelita rebutted.

Karla narrowed her eyes. Those black diamonds twinkled ominously with mirth. "You know, Carmelita, as the politicians sharpen their rhetoric, we let you mortals play the pundit. You, meaning your kind, as I plan for _you, yourself _to be dead by the end of tonight."

"I'm going to mop the floor with your butt until this clay earth shines," Carmelita snapped, in reply.

"Recall, please, that we cannot die," Karla grumbled.

The vixen smirked. "You know, 'Shadowman' once said that. Then I killed him. I could have kept going but I didn't and I had the power to kill him again when you showed up. But then, as I recall, I killed YOU. Did you forget that so soon?" Carmelita recalled with a grin.

Karla shook her head slowly, changing the subject as the two proceeded into a strafing circle again. "Remember when you were alone again, last year? Hmm, your male only left your side because you didn't know how to keep him satisfied. You could have fought Clockwerk together as you're doing now. If I was Sly Cooper, I'd have left you, too. It must be boring being celibate. Chastity is overrated, Carmelita Fox."

"Sly doesn't need to explain himself anymore," Carmelita added, not seeming emotional over the comment, for once. "I actually trust him, finally. It's taken years but I told him that I love him and now that it's out in the open, things are different." The Inspector moved to the left, keeping the circling motion alive. "Are you ready to give up the ghost yet, woman? I doubt you're the real Lilith; you wouldn't be reborn if you were some being older than time or something."

The fact of the matter was that Carmelita would still arrest Sly if she had to. She just didn't want Karla to feel correct. Carmelita trusted Sly Cooper more than she had in the past but she wouldn't tell anyone else that, in public. It was just something to shout into Karla's face. Honestly, Inspector Fox didn't know _how_ she felt about Sly at this point. She just knew she couldn't deny what she felt when they were together. That was the bottom line.

Chintzy simply scoffed. "They say that you'll find out all your answers when you get to Heaven. Ready for your new home?" Karla growled, throwing two punches that Carmelita evaded, using her wrists to bat the demonic woman's arms away.

"Pipe down, freak of the week," Carmelita grumbled. "You're just a Demon Dejour," Inspector Fox said, grabbing Karla's paws then kicking the woman square in the gut to keep her at bay. The circling began again. Both of them were in a stare-down at this point. "In fact, I wouldn't even go that far," Carmelita added, saying further, "Demon of the _hour_."

"I'll show you exactly what I am the demon of!" Karla snapped, her revoltingly gaunt ebon flesh tightening over her bones as she contracted her muscles, tightening her hands into fists. "Are you ready for your final destruction? When I finish with you, Clockwerk will be completed and my Master's plan will be in full swing!"

* * *

Meanwhile…

**Steven tightened his arms, pulling himself up from** the bowels of Clockwerk's body. He slipped through the maintenance hatch in the belly, sliding down over the ramp, glancing up at the beautiful work he'd created from scratch, all over again. Was this the right thing to have done? Finally, the skunk offered nothing more than a frown. "You cannot blame yourself for the second defeat at the paws of the Cooper Offspring, Clockwerk. While you were forced to watch it happen, your consciousness was pushed aside by some child with small-time aspirations."

"I breathed before," Clockwerk mused, the voice audio being patched through internal speakers mounted throughout the body. "I do not require lungs this time. I spoke before but now my voice is carried through an electronic signal from my brain to a thin sheet of reverberating plastic and metal inside of a box in my throat. When I was alive in my other form, I felt joy when achieving victories over my enemies. That is all dead and foreign, now."

"It's the modern age, my friend. I've built you to surpass modern technological advances," Steven explained, taking off the wielding mask and placing it on the work bench. "You have processors that run on fiber optic light architecture, carrying information from your body back to your brain at several hundred terahertz. With particle accelerators, light speed is how quickly it takes for you to make a decision necessary to find your enemy's weakness, expose and exploit it, then flatten them."

"But I thought with my own brain before," Clockwerk said, not quite in a tone of protest but one of naivety. "What is the benefit of such an upgrade if I don't feel joy to gloat over my victories?"

"When the new HateChip is plugged into your onboard data center, you'll experience emotion again," Steven promised. "Your system processes quickly enough to handle it. Think of it, the speed of light is 300 million meters per second. Your brain will have processed everything, right down to zeal, within the second of time that it takes for your opponent to present their self to you."

"You can give back my sensations of emotion so I feel alive again?" Clockwerk asked, as pensively as an emotionless machine could muster. "I have a great deal of things to achieve but there is no use living or _existing without a desire_ to do so."

"Perhaps," Steven said, walking over to the workbench, picking up a small metallic looking card, eyeing it. "You've not had the ability to conceive a thought until tonight. Not since that night in your Volcano Lair. I was surprised that you had loaded yourself down with modern weapons that night; they failed you. Honestly, I've never known one of my creations to be a failure at anything and yet you've never managed to do anything more then terrorize or hate some silly raccoons."

"Plasma Cannon turrets and other modern weaponry is required to stay with the times," Clockwerk replied flatly, in rebuttal to Steven's prior comments about needing to be technologically advanced. His lower half was now assembled and unlike before, he was on his haunches, the way a real bird might sit pretty in a cage. His wings were folded along his back; he looked sleek and polished. The old bird, young again, was nearly complete now. "I've been meaning to ask you," Clockwerk continued, "Why do you plan to murder The Sire?"

"He refuses to allow others to rule anything, directly," Steven explained. "Using his powers against me are futile. Ordering a follower to kill me would be his next course of action should I defy his will. This includes my wish to make a corner of the world distinctly my own."

"You cannot come to a truce with your friend?" Clockwerk inquired. A friendship, at least to the massive metallic owl, was a code of business conduct, like when he had formed the Fiendish Five, so many years ago. Mutual business was discussed, plans were carried out and everyone was in benefit of the cooperation.

"I know that he has killed friends over wanting their own slice of metaphorical 'Pie' in the past," Steven explained. "I'm being preemptive in self defense. That is what this boils down to: Self Preservation."

"He never bothered me when I made that Volcano lair my own," Clockwerk said in casual debate to the simple comment. "I don't wish to see you consumed by paranoia. The genetic coding of man's DNA is designed for an optimum performance of Two Hundred Years. You've far exceeded that and I fear it is taking the toll upon your mentality, slowly but surly."

Steven glanced up at the massive bird, quirking a brow. "I see that the brain I've built for you is causing you to think of things in a different light."

"Lack of emotion, perhaps, is an additional culprit. Finish the job, Steven," Clockwerk said, staying motionless, save for his eyes. Those ominous scarlet spheres lowered, eyeing the chip in Steven's palm. "I have work to finish against The Sire and, more importantly, against the last remaining Cooper Offspring."

"Indeed, you do," Steven said, glancing at the chip in his paw. A smirk touched his muzzle. "I'm starting to wonder if bringing you back to life was a mistake, however. Don't be insulted but the only reason I started this project was because of these strange dreams I'd been having for a few months now. I took them as a sign and got to work. But now, at the cusp of your completion, I find myself questioning my personal motivations."

"The HateChip, Steven." Clockwerk narrowed his gaze, attempting to look formidable but Steven just grinned, knowing the old soul was currently unable to portray real emotion. "Finish the job, so I can finish my job."

"Is that all life is, to you? A job to complete?" Steven asked. "Really now, old bird. Hast thou lost thy mind? To attempt a display of mettle with mine-self wouldst only serve to vex thine creator, impudent whelp. Thou art but a bumpkin, Clockwerk!" The skunk shouted, temporarily reverting to his archaic lexicon from his mortal days.

Clockwerk wanted to scow but he felt no emotion with which to be angry. "The times have changed, Steven. Now, put the chip into me; I need to be myself, once more. Do it."

"Hm," Steven said with a smirk, eyeing the chip between his claws. "Perhaps I should jam this chip into your brain and walk away, hmm? Is that all you want from me, foolish fop?" Asked the skunk, calming down enough to speak with a modern air, once more.

Suddenly the doors to the Laboratory burst open and Sly Cooper stood in the arch. Clockwerk's head rotated to the left, as an Owl's head would, eyeing the intruder. Bentley, on the other hand, was climbing to an opening in the vent high above on the other end of the room. The turtle pulled out the old weapon that he'd not used in years, which had been in the duffle Carmelita was carrying. It was none other than his crossbow.

Taking careful aim, he put the HateChip in the targeting reticule, loading one of his infamous green darts into the slot. With patience and precision, he might be able to shatter the chip that Steven was holding. Sly, down on the floor, walked in, cautiously, taking his cane in both paws.

Cooper smirked, pulling the cane apart until it split, left side and right side. The bottom of the cane folded upwards on a hinge so it was half the size but so that he was now carrying two smaller canes.

"I can't let you go putting that Chip into Clockwerk," Sly said, shaking his head slowly.

"Oh but I think you _do_ want me to put this into Clockwerk, Boy," Steven replied, giving the metallic card a playful shake. "If I don't put it in, that's when you're in real trouble. Trust me on this."

"How about you hand me the chip," Sly said calmly, "And I put it under Inspector Fox's boot like the last one? Then we can all go home."

"His parts aren't designed with Hate Chip Apoptosis upon destruction this time," Steven said, narrowing his gaze. "And you can't defeat him by whacking him upon the head with your cane again," Added the scientist. "Only I have the power to construct or destroy my age-old creation."

"Then I guess I'll have to level the building and blow it sky high," Cooper said, still remaining calm. He was ready to use the two miniature versions of his cane to go wall crawling if he had to, just to be a difficult target. Anything, at this point. "But I think you're bluffing, so hand over the HateChip and we'll see after it's crushed."

Suddenly, to the surprise of everyone in the room, Steven's shadow rose up from beneath his feet. The inky tendril of gloom reached upwards, grasping his wrist and forcing him to hold his paw still. Bentley, not one to argue, took aim then took the shot. The green bolt lanced out of the vent cover, between the slats, and slammed into the chip causing it to burst into tiny pieces.

Steven gasped, his lower lip nearly quivering. "You fools! Do you realize what you've done?" He screamed in frustration. "Doest thou comprehend thy unknowing ills? Thy doom has been sealed and you shall be cleft in twain with but worms to hollow out thy noble brow and robust cheeks! FOOLS! Damn thee, thy fate shall be DESERVING!"

Sly reached one of the cane claws behind his head to scratch at the nape of his neck, tilting his head in slight confusion. "I don't know what you just said, but it sounded mean. I don't think you have a leg to stand on now. Why don't you just give up?" He said, half expecting Clockwerk to shrivel up into nothing any moment, just like the last time the Hate Chip was destroyed.

The vent cover across the room fell to the floor, causing Clockwerk's head to rotate into the other direction. Steven glanced over his shoulder and Bentley tumbled from the opening, getting to his bionic feet with a grunt. In order to give Bentley cover, Sly rushed Steven from behind, gripping both of his shoulders with each of the miniature sized cane pieces.

"Grab him, Sly, while I get _OUR_ HateChip replacement (A/N: _See Chapter 3's heist segment_) that's on his workbench!" Bentley shouted, sprinting towards the remaining metal card sitting on the table in a special looking carrying case. One of the cards was shipped in from Interpol, when it was taken from the computer server in Paris, which was Bentley's original plan. The spare chip, when inserted into Clockwerk, would set off an apoptosis self-destruct program that Bentley encoded into the processor and now the remaining chip was on the table, waiting for Bentley.

Clockwerk's head rotated again, facing the group that met in the middle of the room. Sly slammed the skunk into the floor who shouted in protest. "Stop, fools! You've ruined everything! Thou art thy own undoing; cease! DESIST! ABSTAIN FROM THY COURSE OF ACTION!"

"Shut up," Sly grumbled, grabbing the back of his headfur and slamming the scientist's head into the floor, "I've got a real beef with you, making this freak to go after my family. I heard you're some robo-techno nerd who marches around in a metal suit, kicking everyone's tail, but you're not so tough."

"Nitwit," Clockwerk mused, lacking in emotion, "The suit of which you speak is against the far wall. Release my creator, he needs to fashion a new HateChip for me to return to my original mindset."

"Sly," Bentley cried, hopping up onto the workbench and snatching the chip from the container, "Here it is, I need to stick this in Clockwerk's brain!" The tortoise said.

Sly stomped on Steven's head, delivering a hard kick as the skunk attempted to stand back up. Cooper grabbed Bentley by the shell, twisted around twice, then chucked his shell-backed friend into the open hatch of Clockwerk's belly before the metal raptor could react. Steven shouted his protest, "NO, YOU FOOLS! NOT THAT ONE!"

Bentley scampered upwards towards the inside of Clockwerk's head as quickly as he could, taking the chip in his left hand and pushing some wires aside with his right hand. There was a small red LED light flashing besides an empty slot. Bentley glanced at the chip then the slot, eyeing them up then nodded decisively. It looked like a perfect fit to him. He slammed the chip into Clockwerk's main motherboard then pulled his body back into the shell.

The shelled turtle slid all the way back down from the neck to the hatch, flopping out. He used his bionic legs to run away from the bird, who was motionless for another moment. Clockwerk's eyes darkened and the entire metallic avian machine went through a rebooting sequence. Steven pounded the floor with his fists. "You idiots, you put the HateChip processor into his brain!"

"What…?" The voice belonged to Donavan, who took shape from a shadow cast on the wall by a workbench lamp. "Don't bluff!"

"I would never, in my right mind, bring back Clockwerk as he originally was; what a malfunction with no purpose!" Steven shouted. "I was just realizing it tonight, when I stopped having those dreams. They're JUST DREAMS! Nothing more; Clockwerk doesn't NEED to come back. Hard work is just that, but he's unnecessary. THAT Chip that you idiots destroyed was the replacement chip you designed to destroy him! I was going to use him to kill The Sire and make Clockwerk earn the chip as his reward then destroy him with the replacement chip and tell Sire's legions that I destroyed Clockwerk as punishment and take over Sire's forces for myself!"

"But look, he just shut down," Sly said, pointing at the dull, dim eyes. "What's that all about?"

"He's rebooting; I don't know why I even rebuilt him! I just had an epiphany," Steven said, gritting his teeth in anger, "And now you've done it again and brought him back to life, yourself. That's twice you fools have brought him back (A/N: _Ending battle of Sly2_) in an attempt to destroy him! You klutzes can't get ANYthing right!"

Sly just gawked, blinking. It happened again and this time it was much worse. It was the real Clockwerk and any moment, the metallic beast would wake up and be his old self again. Sly drew his right paw back and struck Steven in the face, hard. The skunk gasped, his head snapping back for just a moment. "You… you hit me!"

"Damn right," Sly said with a stoic calm, drawing his fist back. "And I'll do it again. How do we destroy that thing?" Suddenly Sly was knocked clear across the room by a massive metal wing.

"Cooper!" Clockwerk bellowed, having fully rebooted into his old self. "I will END your LINE!" The monstrosity cried. He picked Steven up in his talons, causing the Skunk to shout in surprise.

"What're you doing, you cretin! I made you, now put me down!" The scientist called out, more so shocked than exasperated.

"The other chip was destroyed," Clockwerk deduced aloud, adding, "The other chip was put into me and now I am myself again, so it's obvious that you had a sudden change of heart and you were attempting to kill me, as well!" Clockwerk said, hurling Steven at Sly Cooper across the room. The raccoon found himself immediately bowled over by the skunk's full bodied weight.

"He's not at full power," Steven gasped softly, from his new spot on the floor. His fall had been broken by Sly's body and yet he still hurt all over, now. "He's not at full power, you may still have a chance but you must hurry and fight him now," Steven said, standing up slowly.

"Traitor!" Clockwerk rumbled in a detestful, emotional tone. His eyes narrowed with true, passionate hatred and a lethal class of high power laser beam emanated from those optical orbs of crimson. Duel laser beams cut into the skunk's midsection, simultaneously cutting him into two halves while cauterizing the wound to both the top and bottom section of his body.

Steven glanced down at the slice, his knees giving out with the lack of motor skill signal from his spine. The top portion of his body collapsed to the floor and he shouted in agony knowing that his end was upon him. Sly evaded the lasers that were intended to dice him next but Clockwerk was faster than before and Sly had to work harder to evade better, this time around.

Bentley made a mad dash for the robotic attack suit in the corner that Steven designed for himself. The turtle climbed into it, stretching the bionic legs out so that he would become Steven's height, then activated the personal defense shields. The electronic shielding formed a thin bubble around his body that deflected Clockwerk's destructive eye laser cannon as it passed over the now-shielded turtle. Bentley could feel his heart racing, but nearly laughed in relief when the lasers simply bounced in another direction, harmlessly.

Steven, now cut into two halves, was laying on the floor in his final moments of life. He glanced up at Clockwerk with dull, sad eyes. "With all that work and that amazing ability to process information; you're nothing. You've reverted to what you were, blinded by hate and you'll never amount to success. You're the only creation I've ever invented that failed miserably. And in these last moments, all I can say is that I pity you for the fool that you are," Steven muttered.

The skunk blinked twice, frowning thoughtfully. "Death encroaching, mine eyes grow dim; weary," Steven continued, beginning to babble incoherently in his natural, archaic speech. Clockwerk cut his gaze back to Steven, dicing the skunk into smaller fragments for no other reason than to stifle the infamous genius. He then went back to chasing Sly throughout the large vault-made Laboratory, using short, rapid bursts of laser fire.

Bentley, from the mobile offensive suit, armed two rockets and a particle cannon. He fired the cannon first. The nearly invisible energy field caused nothing more than a wave of distortion in the open space between the two opponents. The rockets were fired next. Between the massive concussive force and the two rockets, Clockwerk was bowled over, knocked into the nearest wall.

The metalic machine grew angry. His brain only needed a fraction of a second to evaluate his own status, knowing he wasn't at full power. He then deactivated the laser attack eyes, cutting a glance at Bentley in Steven's robotic suit. Finally the Owl forced himself from the wall, saying, "I know just where to recharge quickly, then we'll finish this, Cooper!" Shouted Clockwerk, swinging his massive metal wings outwards. It knocked Bentley over and crushed the wall that Sly was climbing along with the miniature cane picks.

Sly flopped over, landing unceremoniously upon his tail. Cooper watched as Clockwerk pushed forward, bursting through the ceiling, leaving a gaping hole in the roof of the building. Snow began to flutter in, followed by the harsh bite of winter air. A powerful flapping noise was heard as Clockwerk spread his wings to gain altitude. Donavan approached Sly, helping the Raccoon up with a paw, then he did the same for Bentley.

"If that arrogant fool isn't going to his old Volcano Lair, then I don't know _where_ else he _would_ go," The wolf said with a slow shake of his head. "All I know is that Clockwerk's rebirth means things will be a great deal harder in the future for all of us. Now we need to wake Carmelita and find out if she's going through what I've been going through."

Sly brushed loose plaster and saw dust from his shoulders. "What aren't you telling us? Are you a long term enemy of Clockwerk?"

Donovan tilted his head. "I can't go into his Volcano lair. When he hovers above the lava, I'm unable to fight him. The light, of the fire keeps my shadows away from him, except upon his back which is well plated with armor. The actual fire, itself, would kill me in shadow form, if he decided to take a dip in the lava."

"But what did you mean in your reference to Carmelita?" Sly asked, still brushing away the specks and debris of the wall he'd been climbing, leading up to Clockwerk's escape.

Donovan tightened his paws into fists, glancing up at the hole in the ceiling. He sighed, then continued to speak. "Steven mentioned the dreams that inspired him to build Clockwerk. Then he picked up the replacement chip designed to _destroy_ Clockwerk. He picked it up with intent to use _that_ chip on his creation?

"That means someone was manipulating Steven up until this point. That means he never wanted to rebuild Clockwerk, someone made him _think_ he wanted to rebuild the beast. Someone has been doing that to Sire, to Karla, to me and to Carmelita. Now Clockwerk is alive and this being, whoever they may be, is one step closer to getting their way. We must hurry!" Donovan concluded, motioning to the hole in the high ceiling, which was several stories up.

"Do you realize what this means?" Bentley asked from inside the mobile attack suit, "Anyone with the ability to defy The Sire has been killed or has their own agenda now. And that idiot is still ruining around. After hearing Clockwerk smash part of the roof down, the Sire is undoubtedly going to come in here and see what's going on then he's going to make all of us kill one another. We've got to get out of here!" Bentley told them, pointing at the emergency fire escape doors at the back of the Lab.

"Your little friend is correct," Donovan Loupe said to Sly, giving the Raccoon a push. "We must all hurry; I'll use my abilities and carry you up to the hole in the roof!"

Sly shook his head rapidly, "No! You guys go and I'll catch up with you. I've got to go back for Carmelita. Everyone meet at the safe house. Donovan, don't double cross us like Karla did or Carmelita will wake up and fry your tail. Now, everyone hurry!"

"This isn't according to the plan!" Bentley fussed, growing panicky. He was on the verge of an anxiety attack. Sly knew how he got if it went full blown, so he ran over to the turtle shrouded in that attack suit, prying open the canopy in the front.

"Bentley, listen!" Sly said, reaching in and taking his friend by the face, in those softly padded palms. "The plan has changed. I'll get Carmelita, Donovan will get you to the streets. Murray and Penelope will have secured a tank and we'll get everything set aside for use against Clockwerk. We're all safe, we just need to hurry. I know it's not your style to come up with a fast plan like this, but it's all we've got. I'll be back with Carmelita soon and we can go from there, nice and orderly, the way you like it."

Bentley nodded slowly, sighing in frustration. "All… all right, That's… That's a good play, Sly. Make sure you stay away from The Sire."

"I'll do my best," Sly promised. "You can even make your next plot extra devious, right? Now go you guys. Hurry!"

* * *

**Steven was dead. Karla Chintzy was dead**. Most of the Fiendish Five members were missing in action. Massive wings pumped, flapping to push him to his nearly terminal velocity. Heading north, Clockwerk was making good time towards Russia. Looming in the distance was the Krack Karov Volcano. Where else could a giant metal bird be allowed to dwell without having a Government getting into his personal affairs? Russia had been home throughout the entire 20th century.

Simply giving money to the country kept them away from his lair. It would be difficult explaining a fully functional, living metal machine with advanced artificial intelligence to the rest of the world. Simply living as a black market fairy tale was perfect. Being a thief and paying his way through life illegally would never fail in Krack Karov, the outer providences of The Motherland, or the rest of the now-broken nation.

(A/N: _forgive me if I'm wrong, here. I've not beaten Sly1 yet, so I'm assuming that Clockwerk may have been hiding out in Russia for a while. :D_) Russia's economic situation only grew better for the likes of someone who wished to remain private. Clockwerk could throw money at anyone and they would leave him alone forever. He continued to flap those mighty wings, fearlessly cruising through open airspace above Russia. Ever since the late 1970's, Clockwerk had to be coated with a special polymer to travel through open airspace. In the mid 1980's, he'd purchased codec transmitters to show up as friendly aircraft to the Russian Military. Every so often the transmitters would have to be changed or the frequencies would have to be updated. However, he was in a new body and that was all different, now.

As Krack Karov Volcano grew in size, Clockwerk transmitted the pass codes to the automated computer system built into the mountain. The lair's super computer was an invention of Steven, running on the BTU (A/N: _British Thermal Units aka a measurement of power or intensity of HEAT_)'s of the Volcano's hottest depths. Heat was channeled into chambers and compressed with a natural element from the ground, causing combustion to turn turbines. It was far more reliable than Nuclear and it would last until the Volcano goes extinct.

The Volcano's heat felt odd against his new body. He lowered into the opening at the top, swooping into a rolling door that lead into a hanger bay. His wings came to fold along his body and his eyes panned the dusty room. Metal parts lay strewn about the area in absolute disuse. A metal cart on wheels was rusted out on the far wall, from over-exposure to the heat and humidity. It could only be assumed from the barometric readings and humidity inside the lair, that the water mains eventually broke from lack of upkeep.

It was assumable that there would be parts of the lair that were flooded. Clockwerk, disgusted with the condition of his once pristine base of operations, could only think to plot vengeance against the final Cooper clan member. This had been a sort of home for him. Now it resembled a complex labyrinth of ruins. It was now nothing more than something for forthcoming archeologists to ponder over a few centuries in the future. The brief thought nearly amused him.

Only to prove him right, the further Clockwerk stalked into the hanger, the more apparent it had become that the area was partially flooded. A dirty mixture of soot, ash and still water rested in the corner, in front of a door, suggesting that the hallway beyond was flooded out. If Sly had any plans to come through the Volcano and fight him again, Sly would have another thing coming. Only a fool would attempt navigating through this defunct old mine. Half the traps probably didn't work anymore from the plumbing flood and having had no maintenance.

The thing was, attempting to survive the flooded areas would be beyond treacherous. The slightest hint of a grin started to tug at his beak with the thought of Sly Cooper struggling. On second thought, he _welcomed_ Sly Cooper to try again, in consideration of the perils that awaited the young Raccoon.

Debris crunched beneath his talons as he stalked through the hanger. He was partially torn. Having Cooper show up in Russia would easily bring a weary Raccoon to the center stage for destruction. However, Sly was underestimated before and was nimble enough to destroy Clockwerk's body more than once. Getting the drop on the mortal boy would probably be the best. Clockwerk, despite all the quick thinking processors he had, found himself to be indecisive. He simply needed to weigh out different variables before acting.

First thing was first, however. He needed to be at full power. Sly Cooper could wait… He was injured from the attack the turtle caused, using Steven's attack suit. He didn't have time to raise his electro-static shielding device. But that wouldn't happen again. There would never be another chance for the Cooper gang to raise a preemptive strike. Clockwerk would ensure the Cooper Gang's defeat, he just had to contact The Sire first.

* * *

**Sly Cooper ran through the hallway **of the bank. There was more happening than he realized. Since Clockwerk blew the roof off the building, the guards were running every which way. Not only that, Interpol was rolling in to perform an immediate rescue attempt on their "new leader", the Secretariat General, SG1, aka The Sire. Sly was on a mission now, dashing through the hallways.

Every so often, someone passed him with a gun. He was quick to snatch the weapon out of the guard's paw, then hit the guy in the forehead with the bottom of his cane, so as to release his smoke trick. On occasion, he would have to swing from a light fixture to avoid a group of guards passing through the hallway. Once Cooper reached the bathroom where Carmelita lay silent, he pushed the door shut behind himself and approached her slumbering form.

Wrapping his paws around her body, Sly lifted her into his arms and held her close. It was protective, the way in which he held her. She was defenseless and one slip would cause her to be injured or possibly worse. The building shook hard from the top level collapsing, due to a weakened structural integrity. There was shouting out in the hallway for people to evacuate. Sly knew that his only chance of getting out of here was plummeting down the heating vent. His stomach iced over with the thought but at the same time, he got goose bumps from anticipation of such a thrill.

An idea all his own came to his mind. Cooper, suddenly feeling clever, carried her body over to the sinks, laying her across the row of them. He then lifted her up into the vent where he'd put Bentley earlier. It was long and tedious but Sly slowly scooted her through the ductwork until they were at the three story drop. Using the duffle bag tethers, Sly strapped Carmelita to himself, so that her chest was flush against his own chest. He then wiggled himself into the heating vent and plummeted into the abyss.

Halfway into the drop, he separated his cane again, folding the lower half upwards so that he had two miniature climbing picks again. Sly slammed the two sharp picks into the thin metal duct wall, shredding two clean tears all the way down. The problem was, with the extra weight of Carmelita's body, he was still descending too quickly. He arched his back, pushing his butt up against the opposite side of the duct, using his back and shoulders to create enough friction to slow his fall. It was hot against his fur, beneath his shirt.

Her head was resting against the crook of his neck and the closeness was the only comforting thing about this entire situation. His heart was pounding in his chest but the weight of her form against him was oddly calming. His hat was lost, somewhere during the fall and yet he was still dropping way too fast. His arms were on either side of her, holding the two small pieces of the cane so very tightly.

Sly put his feet out, trying to slow his rapid plummet that much more. He could feel the growing heat of friction yawning at his heels as his boots grew hotter. Sly clinched his muzzle tightly, half grinning through a partial snarl. He strained hard, tensing his body tightly. Finally his feet connected with the heater at the bottom, which partially collapsed, cushioning their fall, spilling them to the floor without causing any broken bones. His hat came from the vent, landing on his face as he lay there in a momentary state of repose.

Sly grunted softly, picking himself up and dusting off his clothes and fur. He picked his hat up, half chuckling at the joy of surviving the fall. Carmelita seemed to be fine, although the duffle straps had come undone because of the landing and they'd been separated upon impact. Cooper picked Carmelita up when his ears suddenly perked. Without further warning, a rush of heat gushed from the ceiling vent he'd just come through, followed by a miasma of soot.

Sly's eyes widened. He slung the Inspector over his shoulder, quickly exiting the building through the hole that Murray had made, when trying to open the back door, earlier. He never looked back as the building collapsed behind him. The brick spire slammed to the ground, crumbling to its foundations and all Sly could do was run to protect her. He kept one hand over her waist, against his shoulder, his other paw was wrapped around both pieces of his cane.

He could only hope The Sire had been killed. He could only hope for a lot of things. Once he made it to a safe Alley a few blocks from the building, he slumped into the snow, panting hard. Sly took out the bracelet of Iron Will and slipped it around Carmelita's paw, taking her hand into his own and kissing her knuckles softly. "Hopefully it'll protect you. I don't know what's going on inside of your mind but I can only hope you're going to survive this coma."

Sly's eyes lifted and his paws tightened into fists. Standing on top of a dumpster was The Reaper. "Looks like somebody enjoys working in mysterious ways," Cooper grumbled.

"They say the Creator works in mysterious ways. And perhaps it's true," Replied Nathaniel. The aging badger lifted his left and right paw, causing duel energy scythes to appear in the padded palms of each. "Let me show you just how mysterious the Creator can be. It's quite an electrifying experience! I'll send you to Him!"

* * *

**Carmelita** **was **panting softly. She felt winded from the fighting and it was obvious she was struggling against the esoteric forces of malevolence. She had to overcome the will of Evil and now that she had figured out their entire plot, there was that much more riding on her successes. The only reprieve she had was that Karla was no longer able to teleport. The transmuted demon now only possessed the ability to manipulate light physical objects with her mind and it seemed as though even that ability wasn't doing much in her weakened state.

However, Karla was growing that much stronger each time Carmelita delivered what should have been a deathblow. Earlier on in the fight, the vixen gave Karla's head a twist and after the sickening snapping sound, Karla seemed even stronger. Now Carmelita found herself tossed around like a rag doll at the mercy of an angry child. She wasn't sure how much longer she could hold out.

Karla Chintzy was now freakishly powerful enough that each step she took caused the ground to crack and quake. Carmelita backed up, trying to keep the entire monster in her sight. She'd exhausted her weapons and the two smaller Beretta pistols were laying somewhere around the battlefield, now lost. The cop rubbed her forehead with the back side of her wrist then gave it another go, rushing into an attack.

Karla turned about gracefully, using one of her demonic wings to smack Carmelita to the ground again. She made it seem effortless, now. Carmelita was aching and struggled to even sit up by this point. Chintzy saw this and approached her with a leisurely gait. The devilish woman lifted Carmelita by the throat then put one hand on Carmelita's snout. The grip on Inspector Fox's throat loosened so that the hand could slide upwards, gripping the fox's jaw.

Karla began to force Carmelita's mouth open, stretching it apart, painfully. Carmelita gripped at Karla's wrists but it was no use. If Karla didn't stop, Carmelita's jaw would be ripped open and it would surly become a fatal method of attack.

* * *

**Sly hit the snow hard**, his shoulder skidding through the fresh, fluffy powder. He had to move quickly, to avoid The Reaper's attacks. Lightning bolts scorched the walls, the dumpster and left freshly melted holes in the snow, throughout the alley. Sly, wearing special thieving gloves, swung his cane upwards, glancing one of the glowing mystical scythes, causing the cane to incandesce like a bulb. The cane's motion was a smooth arc that followed through, catching Reaper under the chin. However, the transfer of electricity did nothing to him. The badger simply grunted from the strike, then swung a paw outwards.

One of the scythes was aimed for Sly's chest. It would have sliced through his torso but the Cooper cane, which Clockwerk once realized several years ago (A/N: _Sly Cooper's first game, last level_), could withstand high electrical current without damage. The scythe slammed into the cane but never sliced through it. Sly pushed his paw out, putting distance between himself and the supernatural badger. The raccoon was quick to back flip, landing on the alleyway dumpster.

Another lighting bolt was thrown but this time, Sly used his cane like a baseball bat and swung at the energy bolt. While successfully shocking Sly hard, it also caused the bolt to be projected back at The Reaper. While the electricity did nothing to hurt Nathaniel, the force of the energy impact was enough to warrant a gruff grumbling murmur.

Sly was dazed from the heavy shock. He was standing on the metal dumpster and the electricity was forced out of his body, into the metal and into the grounded earth beneath. Reaper hurled another lightning bolt in anger. This one missed Cooper, hitting the dumpster instead. Sly was lightly shocked again from the transfer of electricity into his feet. It caused him to fall _into _the dumpster this time. However, the lightning strike actually connected with the shiny chrome name plate of the pickup service that was bolted into the front side. This caused a reflective bounce.

The redirected lighting strike was angled downwards, hitting the ground in the center of the alleyway. However, the path it took led the ricochet strike directly into Carmelita's body. She was struck by the lightning, causing her to arch her back, her legs and arms going stiff and a dull scream was forced from her diaphragm.

* * *

On the fields of Limbo…

**Carmelita strained** hard. Sweat poured from her brow and tears of pain trickled from her eyes. Karla was beginning to crack her jaw from the pressure, causing the struggling cop to gurgle softly. "Don't think about the pain, mortal. Let your mind wonder away from it. Concentrate on something else, like your love for the boy-toy. Perhaps what Heaven will be like; that could be an interesting and comforting mental thought to ponder upon."

Carmelita continued to gurgle, nearly at death. Her body was quivering with adrenaline and fear, shaking from pent up rage and frustration with this sense of helplessness. She knew that Karla had cheated and asked for help from the Devil. Who knew what would happen to Karla's soul; all Carmelita knew was that the freak was cheating and that's one of the things that the Inspector loathed. "Goodbye, Carmelita Montoya Fox. I'll take _very _good care of Sly Cooper for you. Say _Hello_ to the Creator for me…!"

All of a sudden, Carmelita's body began to glow. The vixen became incredibly hot to the touch. A powerful glow began to emanate from within the depths of her throat. Karla, who was forcing Carmelita Fox's mouth open to the near-breaking point, was staring straight down into Fox's throat, quirking a brow at the light. Without any further warning, a powerful bolt of pure lightning burst from Carmelita's muzzle, slamming into Karla's forehead.

The bolt impacted with such force that Karla was thrown clear across the field while Carmelita spilled to the ground, panting and clutching at her jaw. She was shocked and dazed from the lightning bolt that passed through her body. It had hit her in the physical world but the immense energy was transferred through her form and into the astral plane of her corporal being, here in Limbo. Carmelita had never felt more dehydrated in her entire life. She was scalding hot, like the worst fever ever and yet she felt as though she was showering in glacial, sub-zero water.

It was an incredible sensation of pain but the initial shock response of her body caused her to feel the pins and needles sensation of being numb, first and foremost. Karla's body lay on the ground, motionless. She was sizzling the way bacon sounded in a frying pan at breakfast time. Steam rose from above Chintzy's head and the nauseating stench of burnt fur filled the area.

Once Carmelita found her senses and regained her wits, she struggled to find her equilibrium again. With her balance restored, Carmelita Montoya Fox picked herself up and literally crawled on her paws and knees over to Karla's demonic body. Inspector Fox's eyes widened, seeing the hole in Karla's forehead, like some sort of marking. The woman was still breathing but she was clearly disfigured now.

It was as if God's almighty finger reached from the physical world into Carmelita's body, through time and space, into Limbo and shocked Karla personally. The mark upon the beast was a personal touch. Whether it was the Creator or a complete coincidence from the lightning bolt that hit her body, back in the physical world, one thing was certain… Karla was marked.

Karla sat up, blinking rapidly. "What in the 9 levels of hell was THAT?" She shouted, reaching up to touch the characteristic feature now upon her forehead. The succubus stood up, shoving the curious Carmelita away, moving to a fighting stance again.

Carmelita balked at the shove. She hauled off and punched Karla hard in the face. To Karla Chintzy's absolute surprise, it hurt this time. Karla reached up to touch her nose which had been busted open again. This was the second time she'd ever tasted blood at the back of her throat. Her eyes squinted shut from the pain and her vision was obscured from tears which shocked her that much more.

The Inspector growled softly, looking her opponent over. "I had to read Dante's Devine Comedy in school because we Inspectors have enough cultist fanatics out there that it was a class requirement," Carmelita muttered, rubbing her mouth with the backside of her paw before putting her fists back up. "And nowhere in that entire stupid collection of works was there anything about how crazy and freakish a true demon would be. But you wanna know something?"

"What's that, mortal?" Karla grumbled, rubbing at her eyes to clear her own vision.

"Whether this is all a wild hallucination in my mind, caused from repressed memories of one of my old occult cases in England," Carmelita started, tilting her head before adding, "Or whether this is real, there is one consistency: You're a bitch and you need to keep your grubby paws off my man!" With that clearly stated, Carmelita punched Karla in the face again. Much to Chintzy's displeasure, it hurt as much as the last assailing hit.

"That freakish lightning strike did something to me!" Karla shouted in protest. Carmelita wasn't about to let her keep whining and so she shut the demon up with a roundhouse kick across the mouth, following through with two more punches. Carmelita grabbed Karla's shoulders, bringing her knee up into the black, fleshy gut of her enemy, causing Karla to double over. Inspector Fox returned to her visceral, carnal instincts, bringing an elbow down into the back of her opponent's head. She then knee-bashed the evil woman in the already-broken nose.

Finally, Carmelita knelt down, crouching low. With a burst of fresh stamina, an uppercut was delivered into the face of the doubled-over demon. It connected so hard that Carmelita's paw went numb. Karla's body was lifted into the air and her feet went upwards, so that she flopped over, crashing down upon her stomach. Inspector Fox knelt over Karla, placing her left knee on the demon's shoulder and her right knee on the backside of the demon's head.

The truculent vulpine gripped Karla by the back of the neck and smirked. "Before I send your tail back to hell, I just want to tell you one thing… Sly Cooper won't even remember who you are by tomorrow… and neither will _anybody_ else!" Carmelita gave a hard twist of her forearms to finish the job….

* * *

**Sly Cooper put one foot into **the badger's gut, gripping the man's shoulders and suddenly leaning backwards, very hard. He managed to throw The Reaper in this manner, but he was certainly in danger of collapsing from exhaustion. The archaic assassin temporarily took the form of a lightning bolt, reappearing directly over Sly, with a foot against Sly's neck and a glowing electro-scythe rod just centimeters from Sly's face. The raccoon could feel the heat emanating from the mystical blade. Any second it would do far worse than scalp him.

A loud shot rang out and it caused Sly to wince from the new pain in his ears. After a moment, his eyes returned to the once angry gaze of The Reaper. Another shot rang out, causing Sly to cringe from the horrendous thundering sound. Nathaniel lowered his gaze, seeing two glistening rubies sitting upon his chest. He paused, lifting one paw to touch them, realizing that they weren't actually glass, but liquid.

A trail of blood began to run down the front of his clothes and his finger was dabbed in the scarlet hue. Another shot rang out, an Sly could see his ears perk in spite of it. This time, the ruby glistened upon The Reaper's forehead, between his eyes. After a moment of brief pause, a trickle of blood began to run from the badger's nose. Yet another trail eked out of the badger's maw, running down his chin. His face held an expression of confusion. The pressure of his foot against Sly's neck was reduced just slightly.

Something cold touched the backside of the Badger's neck and it was followed by the voice of a woman that Sly knew all to well. "Dodge this, mister Assassin," She told him, pulling the trigger. Apparently all the guns that were still on her form, here in the physical world, were still loaded. And it only took one magnum shell at point blank range to completely obliterate the entire head of Nathaniel Carrington. The Reaper was no more. The remainder of the badger's body, from the shoulders down, crashed into the snow.

Sly just glanced up at her, blinking rapidly. He wasn't sure which was louder in his ears: the ringing or the fresh silence. He just sort of grinned, after a moment. Carmelita dropped the hand-cannon into the snow, offering her now-empty paw to him. Sly blinked twice then reached up and took her grasp. He didn't know what else to say and so a suave pair of words rolled right off his tongue…

"Well hello, beautiful. If it isn't my favorite brown-eyed girl. Welcome back," Sly said. Once their paws met, she pulled him to his feet and their eyes met. Both fell quiet and silence resumed. For once, Carmelita had nothing to say; she was too exhausted from defeating Karla Chintzy, she just didn't know what to say at this point.

Both of them were suddenly distracted by the beeping horn of a pickup truck. Who else was at the wheel this time, but Bentley. "C'mon you two! The obfuscation cloak needs to be re-fitted to the tank, if we're going to fight Clockwerk. Hop into the truck bed and we'll get out of here! Interpol is crawling around these parts like you guys would not believe! It's in our best interest to make haste!"

Sly just grinned at Carmelita then gave her a gentle nudge, motioning towards the truck. "It's good to see you, too," He told her, adding, "Let's hurry. Clockwerk could be anywhere by now. We've got to stop him!"

* * *

A/N: _Lordie, what a ride. Karla's dead, The Reaper is dead, Steven is dead, Clockwerk and The Sire are alive and Carmelita now knows she has to find the Cooper Engagement Diamond and Clockwerk and then destroy both! It's the only sure way to put a massive hitch into the plans of Evil's very own figurehead. If she can successfully do that, she may have put a stop to his plans for a few more millennia. Carmelita doesn't seem the devoutly religious type so don't expect any more major spiritual or religious stuff anymore. ;) That was just my way of giving the Good Vs Evil history a bit of pizzazz to make it more believable… or at least more powerful to read. I didn't want it to be the boring old "I'm the power of light!" and "I'm the power of Darkness. Let us duel for the fate of the world! I will rule it!" _

_See, I wanted to get downright "Truth and Life vs. Deceit and freewill-crushing" and I wanted it to move like an epic. _

_Having all these immortal characters show up behind something as simple as rebuilding Clockwerk only made half-sense. If he's failed in the past, no self-respecting Immortal Super Natural character would give a CRAP about Clockwerk's reconstruction. Honest. They always have 5 more fishes to fry at any given time. They're timeless, that's how they roll with eons of experience. But if something as evil as the first known "evil" Character (The Devil) of the greatest known story (Creation) of any book was using evil to MANIPULATE his way into bringing Clockwerk back… having become closer to this fabled diamond than ever before… _

_It only made sense to have so many huge conspiracies behind Clockwerk, Doctor M, the Cooper vault and family… Then I wanted to have it all come together in one mega-plot by one immensely bad character. I love the idea of every evil character having to answer to SOMEbody… and that's when I'd decided to make a play and introduce the ultimate antagonist character… The Devil himself. I know it's really overboard and if you think about it, it's really lame to say "the bad guy is Satan." I mean, gee. He's always the bad guy in real life… it seems dumb to use him in a story. But shoot, who else could pull off so many conspiracies at once? Who else is badass enough in the evil department? _

_That's why I went out of my way to give him the Serpent a history of evil and power and such a lofty agenda… to come alive in the physical world… to be born into the living realm, so that he could try to bring about doomsday… the ultimate evil ending to anything. I wanted to make it powerful so that it didn't become hokey. … I like to take a hokey plot and make it slammin'. That's what my StarFox Story, "THE CURSE" is… a hokey plot that I put time and effort into, so that it would be deep, dark and complex. Anyone can say, "The StarFox Team became Vampires and kicked peoples butt." But I wanted it to rock so hard that the hokey synopsis would be overlooked. _

_And now Carmelita finds out that she's the only one who knows how to stop doomsday. If that kind of weight was on MY shoulders, I'd be Lamenting, too! After Karla got stripped of her powers completely for having cheated, it was kinda cool for Carmelita to waltz in and stomp the chick's tail. Wee. I've drawn this story out for you guys… I hope you're enjoying it… I meant to make it like.. 8-10 chapters, originally. _

_I've got to introduce Act4, because we're going in a new direction now… Clockwerk is free. There are only two bad guys left and the good guys are about to rally up and bust open a can of whoopass. Expect detailed action, some light traumatic drama and even a dash of romance in the future chapters… Act4 begins with Chapter 16. _

_By the way, did anyone understand what this chapter's name meant? Tell me in your review, if you got it. Good luck :D_

_Thanks for reading! I hope you're all prepared for the way I plan to end this thing, later on. Muwahahaha. _

-kit


	16. Brewing an Emotional Moment

A/N:_I got back together with my wife! YAY! I'll spare you all the semantics of this event; just know that it's awesome and I'm happy and ...yay! Now, let's talk about the reason you're here… the story!_

_Yup, the last chapter was named after Carmelita's badge number. Now we begin with Act 4, The Encore Dance. This is where Triumph will happen, the tired crew may falter in their routine steps and yet just one encore dance is never enough, so it will leave the crowd wanting more (hopefully). I have a few twisted ideas on how to end this story when I finally get there. Figuring out how to employ all these methods at once will be the tricky part because I like to go "all out". _

_Now with only the heroes, Clockwerk and The Sire left, I think it will be fairly easy to keep track of things, here. The only loose end with no formula behind the equation is Donovan Loupe. And what about Bentley's Time Machine that he mentions wanting to work on at the end of Sly3? Only time itself will tell what happens there. _

_For now, we enter into act 4. Enjoy!

* * *

_

Act 4: The Encore Dance

Chapter 16: "Nothing More Than _An Emotional Moment_."

**Carmelita turned back to the body on the ground** and shot it one more time, adding a swift kick. Sly blinked. How could he not?Here she was, Carmelita Fox; standing there with her guns. She was awake and she saved his life. Bentley's truck was sitting there and Carmelita was standing there with a smoking gun in her paw.

Sly couldn't think of anything else to say, other than, "Carmelita… My hero!" He gave her a grin, then cut his eyes over to Bentley with the intention of making light of this situation, regardless of Clockwerk getting away. "Uh, so… I don't think any of us have eaten in nearly two days. Let's say we grab some pizza and start bird hunting."

Carmelita, like Bentley, had a sort of dumbfounded look on her face but after a moment of thinking about it, she had to agree. "First order of business is personal survival. The group should be fed while we look for a way to determine where Clockwerk is."

Bentley hooked a thumb at the bed of the truck and both Sly and Carmelita climbed in. Normally, this is where he got jumpy, scolded them and had an anxiety attack. But to Sly's surprise, he just shook his head with a sort of grin as though he were proud of himself. Fact of the matter: he _was_ proud of himself.

The small square window in the back of the cab was still open and Bentley used it to talk to them. "Fortunately the Clockwerk chip was designed to run an Interpol Communications Server as a way to keep it out of public hands en route to Prague. It was a processor designed to link hand held digital assistants for Interpol agents and was used to connect high power communications devices. So, finding Clockwerk should be as easy as figuring out what these Interpol computer frequencies are operating on then we can steal an Interpol prototype handheld device used to test the original router. Clockwerk, no matter what his location is, will show up as LYON FRANCE: HOME BASE. Finding him will be _too_ easy."

"That's devious and, quite frankly, I'm liking it already," Sly said as the truck began to pick up speed.

"However!" Bentley chuckled softly, adding, "I built the replacement that was never detected. Guess what? That processor sent me information the other day; I already know the frequencies so I've already gone through the effort of tracking Clockwerk. The bad new is… He headed north, into Russia. There's only one thing I can think of in Russia and Donovan Loupe guessed it without even giving it another thought."

Sly's grin disappeared. His eyes shifted and a frown marred his normally calm, masculine features. "Kra'Karov Volcano. I thought that place was trashed and fell victim to vandalism and was crumbling from disuse?"

"That is correct," Bentley said, driving Sly and Carmelita through the snowstorm, heading out of town, to meet up with Penelope and Murray. "However; because Clockwerk killed his creator who was planning to kill The Sire… Clockwerk has that much more leverage to get The Sire to help him out. They're probably planning a mutual friendship _right_ now."

Carmelita interjected, "If this Steven guy was so smart like he claimed to be, why didn't he see this coming and why did he lose control back there? It seems really odd and doesn't fit his criminal profile. He's normally a master of psychology and he was even a fantastic chess player. He should have seen this coming and planned for it."

Sly shrugged thoughtfully. "Personally, I'm glad he's gone," Cooper mused thoughtfully. "We can't all have good days and I think his bad day just caught up with him. Even if it doesn't make sense, we both saw him die and that's the end of Clockwerk's creator. Although," Sly paused, pondering something for a moment.

"What is it?" Bentley asked.

Sly glanced at Carmelita then looked back to Bentley, who was up front, driving. "He was cut up by lasers but didn't bleed a drop. Why is that? Was he bionic, maybe?"

Bentley shook his head slowly. "Lasers cauterize flesh. He was cut in half but the wounds were instantly sealed… Melted shut, if you will. He wouldn't have bled. We snuck up on him adding the finishing touches to Clockwerk and I'm the reason Clockwerk got his HateChip back. I didn't even recognize it against my own work."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Sly said, leaning in through the window to pat Bentley's shell, on the right side of the turtle's neck. "You did good and you'll do good again, when we shut that bird down."

"We _could_ go back to my lab in France and I could make some adjustments to my Time Machine," Bentley suggested.

"Let's not play with time unless we have to," Sly said, shaking his head thoughtfully. "I don't believe in paradoxes and temporal anomalies and all that weird jazz but at the same time, I can't help but think what else could go wrong if we tried to do things over. We all got out alive and nearly all the bad guys are dead. Who could ask for anything more? It's progress that we've made today."

"Well, I suppose you're right. We're all alive," Bentley agreed. He then allowed for a slight smile to creep over his face, which Sly could see in the rearview mirror. "I think you'll be pleased with my next plan of action."

"Lay it on me," Sly said.

"Last month's issue of Popular Science Magazine was done on a new technology that is still in a developmental stage," Bentley explained. "There's a particle phase inducer that rearranges matter. One blast of that ray would deconstruct the molecular atoms of which Clockwerk is physically erected. These very molecules, which he is comprised of, would be transformed into antimatter. The end result would be the only way to ensure we could eradicate our target. The antimatter stage lasts for a fraction of a second. It's akin to lifting up a rug and sweeping the dust under it, then laying it back down and saying that the room is clean."

Before Sly could ask, Carmelita sat up, her ears perked. "You're not going to steal government property. Besides, it's impossible and we don't need the military coming after you guys with a license to kill you, sighting terrorism. Only a terrorist would want such a weapon and anyone who steals it would be seen as a terrorist. Create a new plan."

"I have no idea what you just said, Bentley," Sly added, glancing over at Carmelita before looking back towards the window in the back of the pickup truck. "But Carmelita's right. Stealing a one-of-a-kind prototype weapon from a government facility is pretty risky and we're not bullet proof. Plus it would take weeks or even months of planning to nab it. By then, Clockwerk would be at full power, attacking us."

"Only America would come up with such a destructive weapon, anyhow," Bentley mumbled. "We could always steal documents and replace them with fraud intelligence work to make Clockwerk an enemy-number-one of multiple UN governments. They could bomb him and the whole Volcano."

"Something that doesn't involve politics, please," Sly half chuckled. "We've got to act soon. Is there any way we can force that Volcano to erupt, so we can force him out of it?"

Bentley blinked. "That's … that's brilliant! Why didn't I think of it sooner? That's genius, Sly! There is a chemical research facility known as Core Tech Industries in that area of Russia. We could obtain some powerful chemicals with the help of Penelope and mix that with an artifact on display at a historical museum outside of Moscow. The pearls of destruction are on display there.

"They were used thousands of years ago by an unknown creator, to cause massive explosions because they were pearls formed around a grain of thorium fused with tellurium, which has a rediculous half-life. Using the chemicals to melt the coating shell of the pearl, down to its center and at least one pearl from that display and then mixing them together… We could easily drop one into the Volcano and watch it blow its top!" Bentley just grinned. "Thank you, Sly. That was a brilliant idea."

Carmelita blinked, glancing at Sly then looking back to Bentley. "Will you stop plotting to steal things? Besides, you can't steal something from a museum! Sly died in my first dream, last week. You and he were going to steal something in a museum and Clockwerk smashed in the ceiling. The Chandelier crashed to the ground and it killed Sly. Besides, it's stealing. We can do this legally if you just think of something else!"

"We have no time, Carmelita. There only needs to be one pearl," Sly reasoned.

"No! Stop talking about stealing things! I'm serious, Ringtail!" Carmelita shouted, narrowing her eyes and tightening her paws into fists.

"Now just relax, Carmelita," Sly said, holding a paw out.

"If you can name _one_ good thing that you've ever stolen, that has benefited the good guys, I'll go so far as to shut up until it's all over," Carmelita snapped.

Bentley coughed. The vixen lifted her eyes to him, staring at him in the rearview mirror with metaphorical daggers in her eyes. Bentley almost blushed, cowering at her intense glare. After a moment to pull some courage together, he said, "On my way out of France, I used Penelope's help with an RC Chopper and we broke into an Interpol office in Lyon. And, uh, well… you know, there was a three hour layover time when switching trains, so we had some time on our hands, you know?"

"Get to the point," Carmelita grumbled, glowering at him.

"We stole all the documentation on your file, so the case against you is empty and the computer archives were all erased. You were about to go onto their public enemy status list. The Sire was going to paint you as a terrorist trying to assassinate him and you were also going to be charged with the murder of Donovan Loupe and the three of us, assuming we didn't survive, back in that bank. So, by _stealing_ all that stuff, we cleared your name, Inspector."

Carmelita's jaw went slack and she blinked in disbelief. "You did that for me?"

Bentley gave a half shrug. "Well, I mean… you know; you're still suspended, but you're certainly not an enemy of Interpol. The posters were even done up. They weren't printed yet, but the entire smear campaign was in that file folder and on the computer systems. The morning secretary would have taken the information and moved you to official fugitive status but now that we stole all the information and cleaned up behind ourselves, you're just a good cop on suspension status."

"You did that for me?" Carmelita asked again. "You really stole stuff just to keep my career intact? Why?"

"Because," Sly replied quickly, before Bentley could say anything. "We steal from the deserving, the bad guys and those who are in the wrong. Stealing from criminals isn't a crime. But stealing from criminals who masquerade as law abiding citizens is what keeps getting us on your bad side."

"Let's change the subject," Carmelita said with a frustrated sigh. "I'm on suspension and I can't stop you from stealing these pearls or those chemicals. I have no authority to make an arrest and such a loophole would guarantee that any jury would find you innocent because the police didn't follow proper procedure if I even _tried_ to arrest you.

"Police Officers use a 'chain of evidence' and a 'routine policy' to ensure that justice is properly served. Arresting you while under suspension doesn't get me my job back; it gets you off the hook when the judge throws the case out of court." Carmelita paused for a moment. "Criminals," She muttered at the end of her statement.

"Why thank you. Your compliment _does so_ placate my humble ego," Bentley said. Sly gave the turtle a grin as it wasn't very often that Bentley said something witty or clever. Bentley saw the grin in his rearview mirror and offered one in return. "Sorry, Inspector Fox. You can either help us stop Clockwerk or you'll only be slowing us down. But I won't ask you to steal anything because that would jeopardize your career and that would mean that I wasted my time trying to clear your name, the other day. But you can still help us."

"I've done it before, twice, concerning Clockwerk," Carmelita mused, quietly. "You do what you have to do and I'll agree to a truce. We work together until Clockwerk is in pieces. Hopefully this third time will be the charm and we'll be rid of Clockwerk for good! Now, let's do whatever it is we have to do to get him!"

* * *

**The pickup truck rolled to a stop** adjacent to a large snow-covered object. It resembled the boxiness of a trash dumpster, but it was slightly longer. Bentley knew what it was from a glance and so did Carmelita. It was a tank, covered in snow with a tarp over it, to create a long boxy shape, as to keep the contours of the gun barrel from giving away its figure. Sly turned to Carmelita and gave her a wan grin. He, too, knew it was the tank Murray 'borrowed'.

The three of them climbed out of the truck as Penelope approached from an Alley door. "Hey guys," She greeted, wearing a well-insulated mercenary jacket with different patches sewn over it. It was only logical to assume that it had been found in the tank. She pulled a small remote out of the pocket. "I have something to show you guys. I'm only half-finished and require Bentley's help in the matter."

"This had better be good," Carmelita said, still a bit put off from the fact that Sly was about to steal again. Penelope gave a nod and mashed a small black button on the control box in her paw. The tarp on the tank flipped off, making it obvious that the snow covering it was fake and square shaped, glued to the top of the tarp.

"I did some modifications but I'm not finished yet; I had a lot of nervous energy, worrying if you guys would make it back okay," Penelope admitted with a slight shrug. The tank was sitting directly in front of a rollup door in an alley, besides an abandoned warehouse. As soon as the molded square-shaped tarp was pulled off the tank, the roll up door began to open. Murray was inside, pulling on a chain, until the door was all the way up. "Let's get this thing inside, so we can finish it. I left it out here, as a landmark to help you find us. Let's hurry! I still have more modifications to make!"

"What are we doing to this thing?" Sly asked, approaching the tank. He opened the hatch for Penelope, who climbed up the side and slid into the entrance. "And how will it help us fight Clockwerk if he stays in Russia?"

"By the time Bentley and I finish this thing," the mouse said with a grin of promise, "It's going to be able to fly, hover, and fight Clockwerk, wherever that monster goes! We'd need way more than just one to beat him but it will keep him busy while we get the prototype cannon ready."

"We're scratching that plan," Bentley told her with a frown. "Sly and Carmelita are convinced that it would take too long to work out a plan necessary for success. They also think that it would get the military after us if we even breathe wrong. We're considering new options but haven't chosen something that sits well with everyone, here."

Penelope frowned. Murray tilted his head. The alley went silent. Carmelita sighed in frustration. "Okay, Sly. I won't stop you and your gang from obtaining those pearls and those chemicals. Just be careful. You're talking about creating a low-yield nuclear implosion to blow up a volcano. I'm not stupid: It's dangerous. I'm not kidding, Ringtail."

"Let the dream-team worry about the finer details," Sly said, motioning to Bentley and the mouse that was getting up into the tank. Immediately following his comment, the tank engine started and slowly the machine began to back into the warehouse. Once it was inside, Murray used one hand to gesture everyone inside, holding the chain in his other hand. Once everyone was in, he released the chain and the rolling door quickly slammed shut.

The hippo tied the chain into a sloppy square-knot around a cast iron peg coming out of the wall adjacent to the rolling door, on the inside. Once secure, the door was given a slight push to test the chain. The door didn't budge. Murray, satisfied with himself, turned back to the rest of the group, facing the tank. He was eager to drive it once it was converted into a flying machine.

The raccoon Master Thief just frowned, tapping his lower lip with a finger. "How do we fuel this thing? We don't have enough gas to make it to Russia and I'd like to be undetected. That means we can't just roll up to a filling station. What're our options, here?" Sly asked.

"I'm thinking I could make a chemical fuel but," Bentley paused, tilting his head just slightly before continuing his thought. He finally told them, "Under the consideration of those pearls, I might try using the core of a pearl or two to power the tank but I'd have to rebuild the engine and alternator. That's the bad news. The good news is that the tank's power cell longevity would ensure no need to refuel even if we ran it constantly for a solid month."

Carmelita quickly interjected, "If you have the power of nuclear fusion, in these pearls, why wouldn't the tank run forever?"

"You can exhaust the power supply," Bentley explained. "Even Nuclear power plants have to dispose of a spent isotope fuel rod and replace it with a fresh one. Those power plants have numerous rods in an underwater tank at any given time. We're talking about a grain at the center of a pearl. We're also talking about rebuilding the twin turbine diesel engines and building a new alternator out of existing parts that I can find in the area. This is a pretty big project for two people and two or three pearls would run this tank for a solid month, _maybe_ more."

"I do not condone this," Carmelita replied, shaking her head slowly. "You have no idea how much I'm biting my tongue back from lashing out at you guys. We beat Clockwerk with a chopper before. I doubt we need much more than that."

"First of all," Bentley said, growing frustrated, "Your diatribe won't be productive. Second of all, he was rebuilt using the latest theoretical technology. You were fighting an archaic flying machine that was older than modern technology! This tank won't even be able to do anything more than distract him!"

"Then if we can't beat him, why waste your time on it?" Carmelita groaned. "We'll find another way to get him!"

Penelope, seeing that this situation had the potential to escalate beyond its own means, was quick to lift her paws as a gesture of quiet to the room. "I've been toying with a plan B. Bentley and I could have this tank finished in 3 days with Murray helping us to lift the heavy components. From there, we would rest a day, then on the 5th day, we'd begin figuring out how to hack Clockwerk. He's a computer now, so there must be a way to load him up with a computer virus!"

Bentley blinked twice and turned to grin at her. Using his bionic legs, he approached the mouse and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the side of her face. It was obvious that he was impressed and now she was at a loss for words, grinning inwardly and smiling awkwardly at best, on the outside.

"My job is to get the pearls; Penelope uses an RC machine to obtain these dangerous chemicals," Sly continued aloud, adding, "But what about Carmelita? She's on our side, here."

Carmelita smirked. "I am until I get my job back. Then I give Sly an ultimatum and we figure things out from there. He knows what his choices are. Now, I've got to go and collect myself. You guys do what you do and figure everything out." She reached her paw beneath Sly's muzzle, scritching at his chin then she quickly flicked her wrist, surprising him with a light slap across the side of his snout. "…Criminal." Then she sauntered across the warehouse until she found an old staircase adjacent to an empty Elevator shaft.

* * *

"**Inspector _Fox_?" Said the man** on the other line. Carmelita closed her eyes for a moment, sighing softly. "Inspector, I believe you. I was suspended from control of my own precinct for a pending investigation into something that they won't even tell me about. It's all a bunch of hocus pocus."

"Chief," Carmelita said into the phone receiver. She paused to collect her thoughts then continued with, "There is another side to this. Sly Cooper is trying to stop Clockwerk again. These guys that are running Interpol now have rebuilt him and I have reconnaissance pictures that I've sent to your personal email address, just so that it's not traced by Interpol."

"What is it with the Cooper thieves and Clockwerk's black market operations that those two are always butting heads?" The chief wondered aloud. "It sounds nefarious. What are Cooper's intentions here?"

Miss Fox grumbled softly. She frowned then cleared her throat and told the chief, "The gang plans to steal something from a history museum in Moscow. They're convinced it can be used as a weapon and possibly as a method of fuel for a stolen Russian Tank. It was procured in Prague, Sir. Cooper's intentions are good but I can't let him go stealing stuff to use against Clockwerk. Can't we do this legally?"

"There is no '_legally'_ this time," The man said on the other line. She could hear the hiss-crackle of a match being struck then the short succession of toke noises from the chief lighting his cigar. "When the criminals are running Interpol, they're the ones enforcing the law their own way. You know your job is to uphold justice. I have no power to tell you to do this by any means possible, just like you technically have no power to do anything about any of this."

"What're you saying, Chief?" She asked.

"Carmelita," The Chief was the one to pause, this time. He took a long pull on the cigar then released the smoke in a nasal exhale that resembled a sigh of partial confusion. "It's like this," He added, adlibbing as he went. "Do you know what BLACK OPS is, Inspector Fox?"

"Black Operations is a division that has government orders to fulfill a mission, where the normal legislative law does not apply to their mission's battlefield." Carmelita's reply was a near-Textbook answer. She didn't care for groups that could operate outside of legal standards, either.

"President Jacques Chirac will be up for re-election next year, in 2007. If news of Interpol's infiltration is leaked to the public, it won't look good on France, let alone the old Secretary General, an African Man who runs the police in South Africa. No one even knows he's been replaced yet. Interpol's main headquarters, located here in France, is in a state of confusion. I've been contacted by President Chirac personally. He feels that this could be the start of something larger than we're ready for."

"Like what?" Carmelita scoffed. She didn't personally care for the president. There was always something fishy about him and he was known to flip-flop on issues and stances, where she was always the kind of woman to stand behind her personal decisions to the very end.

"Like the end of the 5th Republic? I don't know, he won't say," The Chief mused, smiling at his joke which could be heard in the way he was speaking. "At any rate, he was a good mayor, if you ask me."

"Eighteen years as Mayor of Paris doesn't impress me. However, I'd much sooner prefer him back as Mayor of Paris again." Carmelita simply frowned. She couldn't stand people who were quick to change their minds over something and was chorused by, statistically, half of France.

"Carmelita, you were a little girl when he was Mayor," The Chief reminded her. "Do you even remember anything before 1995? Ah, but it doesn't rightly matter. I like him, he's a fine President," Said the Chief, taking another toke on the cigar. "He's unsure as to why I was let go in my duties over Paris. He's a sentimental man about this City. He's given me an unofficial means to put this behind us. Once it's solved and everyone is safe, he'll most likely give a Press Conference. He'll explain that something came up, it was foiled and it will look good for all of us. What happens in a museum in Moscow won't concern him and I have no right, nor does he, to tell an Interpol Agent what to do; especially one who is suspended. Anything you might do he would have to disavow all knowledge, so you can't get caught."

Carmelita was quick to get back to business. "Chief, with all due respect… let's cut to the chase, Sir. Should I help Cooper and his gang or should I walk away from this, with my tail attached and my neck intact?"

"Do what you can to help Cooper's gang," The Chief said. "If they cross the line, you'll be standing at their side the minute this ends, with full rights and privileges of an Inspector granted to you once more. Then you make the decision to lock him up or pardon him. This is a special one-time pardon. If he isn't stealing priceless things and breaking the law, he will have earned that pardon. He was a pretty good Constable if I recall to last year."

"Yes," Carmelita agreed. "He was a fine Constable. But I will tell you this," She continued. "I don't care for that balding poodle that we elected, not one little bit. I'm doing this to stop Clockwerk and because _Sly Cooper is in danger_ and for once, _he_'s not broken any laws since his amnesia pardon that I am aware of. So I'm helping him as an innocent who is unofficially been dubbed as a deputy. Anything you would like me to tell him?"

The Chief switched the phone to his other ear, stubbing out his cigar on the other end of the line. Carmelita knew the old dog's habits and smiled inwardly to herself. He was so very predictable. "If he returns to the force, I'll _consider_ him for Captain if he defeats Clockwerk _without_ stealing supplies. Although, you may remember what happened to the _last_ Constable who was promoted to Captain… So don't _expect_ me to make good on that _unless_ he does something extraordinary."

The vixen gave an audible sigh, glancing at her watch. "Something tells me he's not going to join the police again. But anything is possible. I've lamented his decision to leave last year. I plan to head back to the Prague Bank and search for clues, as well. I don't want to be part of this heist. It sickens me. I'll let you know when I have something else to report." She disconnected the satellite phone and packed it into her flack gear, glaring at the wall, battling her pent up frustration. There was no one to lash out at, in this room.

* * *

"**You're leaving?" Sly asked**, somewhat surprised. "Aren't you going to help us fight Clockwerk?"

"That won't happen right away," Carmelita replied. "I've got things to do; work to complete. You know I take my job seriously. Go steal your stupid plutonium pearls and we'll meet up when I'm finished. From there, we'll head to Russia. How long will it take to finish this tank?"

Bentley pushed his glasses up his nose, speaking up. "Uhm, first of all, they're not plutonium. They're Uranium and –" He found himself cut off with a dismissive wave of her paw, followed by a sort of grin on her muzzle. She then waved him to continue. Bentley just blinked then replied with a sort of chuckle, adding, "Okay, I estimate an overnight job, but to be safe, I'd say 36 hours."

The vixen gave a shrug, following it with a nod. "You've got your thirty-six hours. Sly will steal the pearls, you and Penelope will see to the tank's completion. I'm going back to the bank building to search for clues to make a case that will clear my name. Has anyone seen Donovan Loupe?"

"Should we send Murray with you?" Sly asked. "He'd be able to protect you. No one has seen Donovan, so who knows whose side he's even on."

"I'm NOT trying to keep associating with CRIMINALS, so GO and STEAL your stupid pearls and we'll follow the PLAN, all right?" She shouted, clinching her paws into fists and narrowing her eyes. Sly just folded his arms across his chest and smiled. Carmelita set her jaw tightly, raking her gaze over him. "Why are you grinning so smug, Cooper?"

"It's because you've got such intensity in your eyes when you're upset. It's rather becoming of you, Carmelita," Sly replied calmly with an air of flirting in his tone. "We're all on the same boat here; do you want one of us to go with you? It will increase your chances of making it out there by whatever number Bentley can count to."

"No, I'll be fine on my own. See you tomorrow," She said, giving a half wave, heading for the door. She wanted more than anything to look over her shoulder at Sly one last time but she kept her willpower strong and shut the door behind herself, heading for the old apartment building stairs. She felt strong of will to simply ignore him. Normally she was unable to even do anything without watching him over her shoulder.

Once she was gone, Penelope turned to Sly, a frown marring her delicate white features. "She's going to run into that guy you mentioned and he's going to have her come back here and shoot us all."

Sly shook his head slowly. "When she was unconscious, I put the pendant of Willpower on her wrist and pushed it up her arm, under her shirt sleeve. Carmelita's willpower blows my own out of the water. You should have seen Contessa struggle with her. Sire won't see the bracelet on her forearm and when he goes after her, she'll kick his tail. I personally _hope_ they meet."

"The probability is rather high in the numbers," Bentley chimed in. "I would say more than 99percent probability," He noted to the group. "That's why we shouldn't send anyone with her. They'll be in more trouble because Sire will use them to fight her, since he seems like he can't fight, personally."

"Well, heck… then I guess I stand corrected and Carmelita knows what she's doing," Sly chuckled softly. "I don't think she's realized that she's wearing that bracelet just yet. As long as Sire doesn't know, should he approach her, then we're all going to have one less bad guy to worry about."

Bentley gave a firm nod, taking a pencil out and, instead of writing out a plan with it, he used the rubber eraser to mash the 'power' button on his laptop that was sitting nearby. "Right, so let's get this heist plotted and move on it tonight. I've got to send Murray out to grab parts we'll need from a local metal shop that seems to be owned by a group of scumbag mafia thugs anyhow. …Just a shop with ties to some of Prague's darker residents. Sly, you'll be on your own for this; I know it's been a while but if you follow my plan, you'll do fine."

Cooper, in a playful mood after seeing Carmelita blow up in the doorway, placed his cane on the floor, standing it vertically. He then planted his paws on the top and lifted his legs, balancing himself atop of the cane. Lifting his legs further, he finally placed his feet, side by side, on the top of the hook's arch. Then he stood up, preening gracefully. The balancing raccoon was now just showing off, half wishing Carmelita would walk back in through the door at any moment.

"Sly, c'mon now," Bentley grumbled. "You've got to head to Russia and be ready for a shift change. The bullet train, according to the internet, will be leaving in 18 minutes and you'll need a disguise. You'll be getting off in Moscow only a block from the museum. I need at least 4 pearls, just incase. Get more if you're able."

"Maybe we can volunteer Donovan to help with the heist, if I can find him," Sly chuckled.

A voice came out of thin air and a figure began to take form, stepping out from underneath the tank with a liquid-like grace. "I'm still nursing my aggravated chest burns but I think, in consideration of your noble efforts, there is enough of a reason to justify such un-noble actions concerning these pearls."

"It's not un-noble," Sly said calmly, as if he had been talking to Donovan the entire time without even an inkling of surprise in his voice. "These pearls are owned by a scumbag and on display for all the wrong reasons. We don't steal from anybody who has good intentions, pal."

"I'll see you there, when the time is necessary for me to show myself. Until then," Donovan replied softly, disappearing once more into the shadows from which he came. A moment of silence passed before Bentley broke it.

"Ah, yes. So, you've got a train to catch and the snow is going to make things difficult. Get going, Sly!" The turtle said.

"I'm going, I'm going," Sly chuckled, dismounting the incredibly balanced cane. He first put his paws down on the cane's hook-arch, between his feet, then kicked his legs up in the air, doing a hand stand. His left leg extended gracefully, doing a near split in mid-air. He arched his back and leaned forward, until his left foot came to touch the floor the way a well practiced cartwheel might look. He leaned into the step and began walking, while twirling his cane upwards and onto his shoulder.

Just like that, he headed for the door, then he paused much the way Carmelita had. Cooper glanced over his shoulder, grinned at Penelope and Bentley and gave a shrug. "Any gear?"

"Weapons and Gear are OSP," Bentley mused with a frown. "We're running low on gear right now. On Site Procurement is the only option. It's been a long time without practice. That Interpol job was hard but this is going to have a room full of live guards. Just be careful."

"You know I've still got it. Stealing is like riding a bike, Bentley," Sly explained with a friendly smile offered. "And before you say anything, Donovan," Cooper continued, as if the wolf was still in the room, "The difference between kleptomania and myself is simple: I steal because I want to, not because of a compulsion. 'In the blood' isn't (_the same as_) 'in the mind'. See you in Moscow, wherever you are." And with that, Sly passed through the door and into the cold.

* * *

**Carmelita had her paws clinched** tightly. She was still wearing the two duffle bags across her chest but the straps had been replaced from earlier. Now the burgundy bag's strap was on the military-green bag and vice-versa. The vixen grumbled to herself about Sly Cooper as she approached the half-collapsed building. Prague police had the area closed off, donning their heavy winter gear and looking fairly miserable. Actually, it was just a few patrol cars and a ranking detective on guard. The pin on his lapel told his rank and nothing more.

Carmelita pulled her worthless faux badge out and reattached it to her collar, approaching one of the detectives on the scene. It would take hours to verify that she was suspended and these guys probably didn't speak French. She flashed her badge to a weasel in charge and nodded politely.

He couldn't help but note the odd way in which she was dressed and the two equipment bags strapped over her shoulders, resting on her hips. After a moment of looking her over, the weasel gave a slow nod, offering a glove-shrouded paw. Matching boots adorned his feet and a skullcap was pulled down over his ears and the side of his face with the fabric folded upwards in the front which rested over his brow.

Carmelita licked her lips apprehensively, slowly beginning the conversation in her shaky version of the native language. The Detective, surprisingly, _did_ know French. He lifted a paw with a friendly, yet weary smile and replied, "You are Interpol Agent, correct? I am being very pleased to make your acquaintance, Agent."

Carmelita breathed a sigh of relief. His French skills were horrible, but the fact that he spoke French was a relief. But before the conversation could grow deeper, someone approached the both of them behind, placing a paw on her shoulder. The voice scared her deep down in her chest, while her body grew tense and ready for confrontation.

The Sire, of all people, spoke calmly to her. "My, you're _both_ raping my language. Modern French doesn't quite have the same beauty it had when I was a young man. I'm surprised to see an agent with your _status_ at a crime scene, my dear."

Carmelita closed her eyes. "That's because you're older than you look, right?" She was terrified, angry and yet she had to keep it cool. If she attacked him here, there would be too many cops with guns for her to survive. "I'm doing my job, Secretary General. Are you here to stop me or to help me?" Her voice held a bit of challenge to it. Obviously, his powers were not yet engaged.

"Oh, your secret is quite safe with me," Sire whispered right into her ear. His voice was cooler than normal body temperature and it sent an eerie chill down her spine unmatched by the winter, itself. She leaned back, pushing her shoulder against his chest to put distance between them.

"Let me assure you," Carmelita began, "You do _not_ have friends in France, pal. Also, let me just tell you that your involvement in this whole ordeal is way over your head." Her first mention was directed towards the Government and the second mention of the ordeal being over his head was directed at what she'd learned while in Limbo.

Sire shook his head slowly, still standing behind her. "The only one in over her head is you, Agent Fox."

"Don't stand so close to me," Carmelita muttered. The Czech Detective frowned thoughtfully, watching the quiet altercation. Inspector Fox turned to face the effeminate feline, keeping her eyes partially averted. She then said, "Clockwerk isn't the only one involved in all of this. I know a few things that may surprise you. Karla is down; I heard Steven was dispatched as well. Things got a little too 'hot' for Donovan and Clockwerk flew the coupe. As far as Nagan or whoever that freak is, you don't control him."

"Nagan?" Sire blinked, shaking his head with a chuckle. "The only Nagan I know is a Babylonian fairytale and it was a _fe_male who played the harp. This isn't a story book, Agent Fox. You're standing here in the _lion's den_, my dear. Literally."

"Sad," Carmelita replied. When The Sire lifted his eyebrows in question, she continued. "You don't even know that you're being manipulated far better than your own natural gift of persuasion. What irony. Turns out you're just a pawn over the peasants. You wanna finish this right now? I'll get you. And I'll show you just what the hardliner Interpol Brass thinks of your leadership."

"Detective," Sire said calmly. His eyes shifted, glancing about furtively. The majority of police were inside the ruins, searching for survivors with the help of the fire department. The weasel was doing a cross shift of looking for outside clues while standing as traffic duty. The three of them were alone for a moment. Once the detective looked up, Sire said, "Draw your firearm and dispatch this assassin."

Before the Weasel could completely remove the gun from his holster, Carmelita had turned about, snatching his wrist in her paws. She put her right foot between his ankles, using her free paw to put him off balance, shifting her weight hard to slam him onto his back. Simultaneous to the Czech Cop crashing into the snow, Carmelita spun back around, holding the detective's handgun.

She flipped her thumb over the hammer, cocking the Taurus brand pistol, leveling the weapon into The Sire's face. The astonishingly-delicate features of the Lion's face contorted into a momentary show of concern. A soft frown marred his perfect visage. He was a beautiful man, possessing an unearthly aura of astatically pleasing expressions. His facial features could melt nearly any heart but Carmelita was too resolved in her sense of justice and law.

Only one man could catch her heart and The Sire wasn't that man. However, even Sly Cooper couldn't bring her to change how she felt about injustice. She's had no problems shooting at Sly in the past and she would have no qualms about shooting at The Sire, here and now. The lion's soft, complex orbs gazed down the length of the handgun barrel. "There's no need for that, put the gun away, Carmelita Fox."

"What happened to _Agent_ Fox?" Carmelita said with a smirk. She began to squeeze her finger over the trigger. A gunshot rang out, swallowed by the snowfall. No echo was heard, only a quick and sudden crack-sound which rang out in the night. To Carmelita's surprise, it wasn't her weapon. In fact, the weapon she held wasn't even in her paws any longer. It was in the snow several feet away, with a bullet lodged in the side of the barrel.

Her paw began to sink and her head craned to the side. A Wolfdog with a handgun stood twenty yards away with the weapon in his extended left paw. His right paw seemed to end at his wrist, with brown-tinted gauze tape wrapped around the end. The deadly accurate shot had come from the sniper that had lost his paw to The Reaper prior to now. However, this man was still on The Sire's pay roll.

Carmelita's moment of shock didn't last long but even so, during that short repose, the gunner was quick enough to have placed his own gun into his muzzle and pull a silencer out of his pocket. He fixed the silencer on with his left paw, screwing it down onto the barrel's end. He then took the weapon back into his left paw and aimed it at Carmelita. "What are your orders, m' liege?" The man asked.

"Are you kidding me?" Carmelita snapped, narrowing her eyes. "I've escaped near-hell and all that seven deadly sins crap to be in the crosshairs of an old fashion minion with a steady paw?"

"What would you know of the Deadly Sins, Agent Fox?" The Sire sneered. "You're rather intimate with nearly all of them, so it's obvious you don't know how to avoid them. Wrath: every time you lose a suspect and take it out on the next catch? Lust for Sly Cooper, Sloth to actually catch your most important prey; Greed for wanting to keep him to yourself. And let us not forget Pride in your badge. Oh, it must be killing you to be suspended. And what of Envy for anyone that might be able to catch him before you do? Six out of Seven, Agent Fox. Not bad," Cackled the lion in a sickeningly gleeful manner.

The Inspector simply blinked. "I'm hardly consumed by all those things," She protested. "Greed for Sly? And Envy? Maybe they are possibilities and I'm working on my anger but… Wait a second; I don't need to explain myself to _you_, Criminal!"

"No, Carmelita. You've broken the law by interfering with an official police investigation," The Sire said. His gunman held still, keeping the crosshairs trained on the side of her head. Sire added, "You, my dear; you're the criminal, Carmelita Fox. Go and arrest yourself."

"Excuse me!" Carmelita shouted, clinching her fists tightly.

"My word, you're having nothing more than an emotional moment," Sire said. The Detective slowly stood up, pulling out a pair of handcuffs from his belt. The injured gunner approached, flanking the vixen slowly. Sire offered a brilliant smile. That dazzling, handsome smile caused Carmelita to look away, feeling awkward. He then announced, "Good work, men. Lock her up and place her under arrest. Make sure her rights are read to her and place her in solitary confinement. I want her locked up; wrists, ankles and tail. I'll come to visit her shortly."

* * *

A/N: _DUNN dun DUNNNN! Okay, we have a lot coming up in the next chapter! As we can see, Carmelita is now bottling her emotions and I don't know how much longer before she blows her metaphorical top. A lot is about to happen. Carmelita has a stand off with The Sire, as he has plans to confront her in a jail cell! Sly has a sneaky heist ahead of him! Clockwerk is nearly at full power and will be facing the Cooper Gang on his own terms and conditions soon. Donovan is injured and Sly will be working with minimal help. Murray has a job to complete and Bentley and Penelope will be working closely together with the chance to grow together, the way that has been implemented at the end of Sly3. Will it all happen with a positive outcome? Now that Carmelita has been granted an unofficial pardon from her old Chief and the President of France, provided she takes down The Sire, how far will she go to complete her mission? Will her first **real** taste of attacking the legal justice system drag her into guilt or glory? Will she overcome the nagging despair that's nestled in her chest or will Depression drag her down? These are the questions that will be answered from here on out! _

_Finally, will Carmelita be able to take this knowledge that she'd garnished in Limbo and stop Clockwerk and destroy the Cooper engagement pendant? It's the only way to ensure that evil isn't reborn any time in the near future. Will she succeed? We'll know soon!_

_-kit _


	17. Clue in the Chapter Title

A/N: _Have mercy! There's so much that's about to be revealed in this chapter. But let's start with Sly's heist. Then we'll get into some action with Murray and I'll touch on Bentley and Penelope's work time together, as I get into c18… then we'll get down to the nitty gritty and see what's happening with Carmelita… I'm such a suspenseful person. With the theme of calling each act a dance… I've decided to give a dance connotation chapter name. It should tell you that our heroes are about to tread lightly into unknown territory with no plan of action…. Cross your fingers and pray for our protagonists… because who knows what I'll do? In my StarFox Fan Fiction, REFLECTIONS OF THE FUTURE, I allowed the main bad guy to be brought back at the very end and he escaped, so that it would lead into the next game…. Don't think every ending is a FULLY happy ending in my stories. Hold your breath until the very end, because we're going into the climatic part of this story from here on out! My wife thinks I should get something written and published. What do you guys think? Who here thinks I got the right stuff to write something that sells? Who here doesn't and why? How can I improve? LET ME KNOW!_

_Btw, you know how I go 'all out'? It's about to happen again…Bad guys aren't truly evil unless they have a backup plan. With Karla dead, the bad guys needa back up plan. Who says they didn't already have one?I'm introducing a dark slant to this story's angle. Stay sharp!

* * *

_

Chapter 17: When ste**p** p**a**ttern**s** immedia**t**ely begin to fail…

**The snow storm was moving** north. Unfortunately, the temperature grew colder as the train headed towards Russia and Sly disliked wearing the necessary gear to stay warm because it prohibited his natural dexterity. Anytime he was bundled up in a huge parka, it was nearly impossible to be stealthy. But with this storm, there was no use trying to be anything but bundled up. The bullet train had to travel 30 miles an hour under its usual speed because of the weather. It was still very fast, but now Sly questioned whether he might even make it in time.

Bentley assured him on the radio that the storm was factored in and he should still make it if he acts quickly upon arrival. Sly was still standing at the window occasionally glancing at his watch. The world flashed by in a swirl of night mixed with the pearl purity of a snow covered landscape. He was alone in this particular train car and took a moment to enjoy the silence.

While Sly loved excitement he also loved the silence. He knew he was in his perfect element when the silence was louder than his own heart beat. He knew that he was at the top of his form when the force of stealth was strong with him. Paws down, Sly had learned to respect it when he was on a job. He was somewhat enjoying it now, for the moment; possibly because he was safely given a chance to catch his breath. Maybe he just knew that this quiet was the calm before the metaphorical storm.

The trip was a long one. _Thirty hours_ by means of a traditional train; the bullet train could blaze the trip in a matter of only 18 hours. It was still a long trip and there were two stops on the way with a 30 minute lay over at each station. That would give Sly an hour of total time where he wasn't making any actual progress. The actual travel time was 17 hours. He knew he had to grab some gear in the short half an hour it took sitting at each station along the way.

Fortunately for him, the first station's stop was a simple meet and greet of an old 'friend' who happened to be in that neck of the woods. Dimitri. The smooth talking jive-speaking hipster lounge lizard with a solid amount of connections was just the man to get Sly his gear. Once the train eased into the station, Sly crossed the mezzanine and approached the easily spotted pinkish-burgundy scaled reptile. Sly was greeted with a far more personable Dimitri than several of the last encounters.

"Ahh, my greasy-sweet amigo!" Dimitri bristled boisterously. "Right on! How is you? I've missed ya', Bro. 'S coo', bro. Dank ya' fo' stealin' mah' scuba gear. Ah be baaad... Slap mah fro! Do ya' likes mah' latest Buckwheatet?" Asked the lizard, tilting his head.

Sly cocked his own head, folding his arms. "Your weird jive-chatter is a little thicker than I remember, Dimitri. Buckwheatet? Do you seriously call your jacket a buckwheat…-et? I don't get it."

"Aww, bro! Don't be crack'a lack'n up on the medaside with the blueblood style; I just wanted ta thank you again for gankin' my wet-threads. I'm gellin' ya, bro; I got MC's, G's'n big guns bro. An injection of gear perfection that's as hip as my Roach-In-The-Corner Killers!" Dimitri explained, pointing to the pointy-toed shoes. "You dig that, Paddyroller cat? It's like this, my finely furred gray-dude, I gotta scratch in the kitchen, and I'm real floored you're not ripping the siditty on ole D-note, dig honky? Now let's butter up yo' bread and get you back on the hot line about-face, Moscow."

Sly simply blinked twice. He didn't know whether to make heads or tails of the odd-speaking lizard, so finally Cooper just shook his head. "All right, so what have you got for me? I'm going to be breaking into a museum in Moscow and I need something more than my cane for this gig."

The lizard shrugged, motioning for Sly to follow. The two of them walked outside of the train station, baring the heavy snowfall long enough to cross the street and slip into an alley where a side door awaited. Dimitri chuckled softly, telling Cooper, "I've got your digs, cracker-box. You'll be dancin' through the history; in through the heat vent, out through the window. It'll be slick-line like the cream on crop. So how're you and the fuzz buzzing?"

"The Fuzz?" Sly shook his head, not having heard that term in ages.

"Yanno, the Fuzz! The Five-O. The Girl in True Blue?" Dimitri mused, still speaking of police officers and, more than likely, about Carmelita Fox. Sly had understood the term but was rather amused, hearing the lexicon.

"She's gone pig-in-a-blanket, keeping on the D&L," Sly explained, trying to throw enough Jive back at Dimitri to half-shut the lizard up. "She's grooving to our tune when she cuts a rug." Sly cast the man a sideways grin. The lizard chuckled, shaking his head slowly. Sly had explained that she wasn't walking around with a badge right now, suggesting that she was undercover. Sly then told Dimitri that she was staying afloat by having joined teams with the Cooper Gang for the moment. The lizard understood Sly's lingo and nodded approvingly.

"Ain't you two peas in a pod like flowers in a field?" The lizard grumbled.

"Not right now," Sly replied, honestly. "Someone who's bad for everyone's business is running Interpol so she's on the outside, with us. I broke off our relationship when I learned that Clockwerk was being rebuilt, originally. I couldn't have her getting involved because if something happened to her, I'd blame myself…

"She took it pretty bad. They rebuilt Clockwerk and he's _worse_ _now_, than the first one. It's pretty scary for everyone." Once they were inside the small room, Dimitri glanced back out, looking down the alley towards the train station to ensure that they weren't followed."

Finally, Dimitri raised his left hand to quiet Sly. "Behold: My wares," The lizard whispered, shutting the door behind them. On the dusty old counter in the center of the room was a veritable leather suitcase full of gear. "My fat stash of platinum punishment. Can you be handling my hookups, hombre? For real, now, bro. My selection is as good as my sense of fashion; it's the baddest on the block, bro!"

Sly lifted his paws, gesturing outwards, shaking his head. "Slow down, Dimitri. It's good to see you, too. I've got to get a disguise for this museum, also. I thought, maybe, with your sense of fashion, we could use the internet to see what these guards dress like and go from there."

"Leave it to me; I've got you covered like all the bases right before a grand slam!" Dimitri announced exuberantly. "Then you can go the rest of the way to Russia and BAM! Explosives to Rock their world! Color their dull sense of bad tastes ALL RIGHT!" He ended on a shout in the key of "C", singing the last word. Sly simply cringed.

"Then let's hurry," The raccoon finally replied.

* * *

**Murray was in full effect** tonight. His scarf was billowing in the breeze as he stood there, his arms out stretched with the double sliding doors pushed wide apart. The gloom that emanated from the supply store was so thick it was nearly tangible. The hippo reached up and pulled his goggles down over his eyes then reached to flip the lights on. 

Inside, someone was ready for him. A few men sat around an ovular table, smoking cigars with slicked back hair. The Czech wolf-dogs cast a glance up at him with a relaxed sort of smirk on their mugs. The gang's driver and strongman, Murray, clinched his hands into fists causing the leather driving gloves to creak under the stress.

"You guys were waiting for me, huh?" Murray asked. He stepped in through the doorway and the large rolling doors slammed together, closing behind himself. He knew what he had to do and these jokers were in his way. Murray glanced from left to right then approached the table of mafia looking goons.

"How much are they paying ya, strong man?" One of the men asked, between puffs on a cigar. The gentleman pushed the lit end of the short stogie into an ashtray and looked up with a wan smile.

"The Murray cannot be bought," said the portly hippo. "So what's it going to be? Do I have to beat the snot out of your thugs first, or can we cut to the chase and get personal?"

"I'm quite surprised," said one of the Prague Bosses, "You usually do all the talking with your actions. It's pretty rare that you do it with your mouth, fatty. We know all about the Cooper Gang." In response to his sharp retort, Murray's eyes could only narrow. The first man to speak continued to do so. "I think you're all hot air, kid. We already have a strongman, I was just curious how much you make… or if you know how ta' count passed 10 dollars and don't worry about it."

"Listen," Murray almost reasoned, "I may not be the smartest man in the gang; I might not have the brains of Bentley or the wit of Sly but they need my help getting these parts and not you or anyone else in this room is going to stand in my way…!" Murray pounded his fist into his palm. "Now… It's time to break stuff!"

"Touching," muttered one of the other bosses. He then lifted his hand and waved two fingers. A figure emerged from the dark end of the metal shop, easily taller than Murray and sporting ridiculously broad shoulders and gorilla-like arms. As the figure came into the light, Murray realized that the man was, indeed, a gorilla. "Herbert," Said the second boss man. "Show this man to the door so we can get back to our poker game."

"Well shoot," Murray muttered. This whole thing came down to a case of bad timing. Bentley didn't know to plan around their poker match and now they assumed Murray was just a man fighting in a turf war. The hippo shook his head and looked up at the massive beast that approached him, glaring down at him and smirking. The massive ape was all muscle. Portly Murray waved up at the beast and asked, "Hello, Herbert. How's it going?"

In a deep, almost guttural voice, Herbert replied, "I think you had better leave, little man." Murray could only blink. He'd never been called 'little man' before. In comparison, _everyone_ was little standing next to _this_ guy. The Gorilla snatched Murray by his waist, lifted him up and hurled him across the room.

Based on the maneuvers taught to him by the Guru (A/N: _Sly 3: Honor Amongst Thieves_), he tucked his arms and legs inward and assumed the powerful 'Ball form', bounding off the wall with all his might. The thin sheen of a pinkish aura surrounded the hippo who bounced back across the room, hitting the floor, then popping up, catching the Gorilla in the upper chest. It was a high enough connection that it put the massive minion off balance for a moment.

Murray un-tucked his arms and legs, landing on his feet and followed through with several quick uppercuts and a few left and right jabs but it barely affected the gorilla. It happened again and Murray found himself snatched up by the waist in the man's massive palm. He was thrown clear across the room again and Murray attempted the same counter defense measure but this time, he went clear through the wall. Landing in the snow outside in the alley, Murray sat up in a pile of trash, sitting in a dark green recycling dumpster with a dazed look in his eyes.

Once the stars cleared, he climbed from the dumpster with a grunt. The Gorilla was waiting in the Alley. "Are we finished? It's cold out here and I figured you'd be leaving now."

"I came to do a job," Murray half-grumbled. "And you know what?" He asked with a grin. Then the hippo's tone changed to that of defiance and he added, "I'm going to DO IT!" Without further warning, Murray charged, drawing his fist back and throwing his full weight into a hard punch. The Gorilla grunted under the walloping fisticuffs but it did little more than to faze him for a moment.

Herbert the Gorilla drew his fist back, ready to drill into Murray's jaw but Murray was quick. He leapt back, vaulting off the dumpster, and then leaned forward so that his body was horizontal. He threw his arms and legs outwards and belly flopped atop of the large bouncer, knocking him back to the snow. Murray recovered quickly and grabbed Herbert by the collar.

Opening his stance, Murray grunted hard, pulling the gorilla up over his head. Herbert kicked his legs but Murray held tight. He rushed out of the Alley and back into the building through the front door. The Mafia bosses looked up from their seats just in time for Herbert to be thrown across the room and into the poker table. Chips and cards went flying in all directions. Seeing several guns were pulled and Murray ran back out the door, knowing what was going to happen next. He had to dispatch each of them, one at a time.

* * *

**The buxom Carmelita** was slow to wake. She felt that annoying pins and needles sensation enveloping her entire right arm and rolled away from it until she was flat on her back. She tried to lift her arm so that she could shake it but was rewarded with a noisy rattling. Cumbersome chains were attached to her wrists, her ankles and her tail, clattering across the floor. 

The residual of a light headache could also be felt as her pain began to grow, awaking into the world of consciousness once more. She'd been struck in the forehead with the butt of a soldier's rifle. As she could recall, these people didn't like her putting up a fight when she tried to escape.

She wasn't quite sure how long she'd been out but her body was burning and her chest and abs were aching from putting her body through such punishment in the last two days. She tried to sit up and found that there were no short-tether restraints prohibiting her. Once she was able to peel her eyes open she realized that the restraining metal links offered a fair amount of leeway. As noisy as the rattling was, she had more than enough slack in the chain to move.

Carmelita came to her feet, slowly at first, then gave herself a good shake. From head to tail, she shook hard like a wet dog until her flowing fox-brush rattled the last chain. Once she felt awake enough to think, she paused to take in her surroundings. While there was no war going on, she also had to note that there was nothing going on that could be construed as breaking the Geneva Convention, here. Everything seemed well and she was unharmed, minus the bump on her head.

There was a toilet nearby and a sink. She even had a cot and the chains were long enough to allow her to go anywhere in the cell. Escaping the cell would have been easy except for the 5 leashes on each of her limbs. Every appendage was adorned with its own iron shackle and they were fairly heavy at that.

She attempted to search her pockets for something to pick the locks with but she had nothing on her. She reached up to run her fingers through her hair but her hairpins were missing as well. Finally, she sat down on the cot and rolled the cuff of her pants up. She'd started doing this since Sly had left her handcuffed to the railing at the mouth of the Volcano in Russia a few years back. She had a key sewn into the cuff seam of every pair of pants she owned.

She had to work at the stitching for a few minutes but her hard work finally paid off and she fetched the key from its secretly sewn pouch. The key was placed into the shackles and she gave each one a turn into the 'unlock' position but she wasn't about to give herself away, either. Carmelita used the threads from the sewn pouch in her pants cuff to tie the shackles shut.

The appearance of looking captured would bode well with her plans to escape once The Sire came to visit her. She glanced down at the key and thought about it for a moment, wondering if she shouldn't just place it under her tongue. Ultimately, she decided to slide it down into her shoe.

She felt vindicated to have been quick because a guard stepped into the area only a moment later. He opened the cell and approached her. She immediately recognized him as the guard who hit her in the head with the gun butt earlier, when they were trying to subdue her during the imprisonment. He took her by the neck in his right hand and put her up against the cell bars at the back of the cage.

"You will stay here until The Sire arrives. You cannot be allowed to move when he speaks to you; you've lost that privilege," hissed the servant guard. He was a pretty big guy, especially for being a simple ferret. He had broad shoulders and a dull, yet feral look in his eyes. It was obvious this guy was nothing more than a simple pawn. The way he held her up against the bars was actually rather painful. Another guard stepped into the cell, a coyote of equal size, who came over and took her wrists, pinning them up, above her head. The chains rattled softly in reply.

Carmelita narrowed her gaze. "So where is your boss; I want to rip him apart, but I don't mind starting with you two, first."

"You talk a lot of trash for a woman who's held down by two very big men," Said the second guard. The coyote leered at her with a smirk. "So what's a cutie like you doing unbroken and unbound? Haven't you had a man to tame you yet?"

"I answer to NO ONE," Carmelita snapped. "If anything, I prefer a man who would change his ways for _me_ instead of the other way around."

The first guard chortled in rebuttal. "That's not going to happen. Why don't you try to be submissive for once? Who knows, a girl like you might really like it," The ferret added.

"Let me show you what a "_girl like me_" prefers out of two guys, like yourselves," Carmelita told them. She tucked her legs beneath herself, putting her feet back against the wall, tensing her body. She then pushed off the wall with her feet as hard as she could. She kicked about, so that she twisted loose of their combined grip.

Her ankles came together, crossing, and her knees parted widely, so that her toned thighs were tightened and tense. Her knees smashed each guard on either side of her, directly in their faces, breaking both of their noses at the same time. She came straight down, between them, doing a hand stand, then kicked her legs back up and out, hard. Her heels met each guard in the chin, knocking them away from her. It also caused her simply threaded chain braces to come undone.

The shackle cuffs fell to the ground with a clang. She then turned about quickly and offered a medium-height jump kick to the chest of the coyote. The force sent him reeling back. Upon landing, she pivoted hard, performing a skillfully executed roundhouse across the jaw of the Ferret. She didn't have her weapons on her but she was far from defenseless.

Having dropped each foe to the floor, she snatched them both by their headfur and pulled them up to their knees. She then drew her paws apart then clapped them together, smashing the ferret and coyote's faces into one another. This rendered them both unconscious. They were dropped to the floor, forgotten. The cell door was wide open and Carmelita just grinned to herself. She wasn't exactly enthused from being in an unknown place but she was pleased with her work.

Sneaking out through the jail cell gate that was left wide open, Carmelita continued out into the hallway. She checked a few small doorways looking for where they might have stashed her gear. So far, there was no success, finding nothing more than custodial closets and a few other small, worthless storage places.

Inspector Fox checked her collar and noted that her badge was still attached. A foul looking rooster stalked across the intersection of a hallway that met perpendicular to her own. He spotted her almost immediately and began to charge. Carmelita leapt into the air, kicking her legs outwards to throw herself into a somersault. She landed behind the avian, pivoting around to face him.

The rooster skidded to a halt and turned about, charging at her again. She lunged at him, wrapping her arms around his feathery neck and kicking her legs down between his ankles. The Rooster's eyes widened, realizing that her intent was to trip him and his balance was skillfully stolen from him. The maneuver brought him to the ground with a hard thud that dazed the bird. He wobbled for a moment, trying to get his bearings but Carmelita had no intention of letting him recover.

She put her left foot up on the nearest wall, flipping her body over so that the weight of her form came crashing down upon her right heel, stomping the foul foe in the middle of his back. He was immediately immobilized and struggled to move. His talons opened and the opponent attempted to gain purchase on her leg with his foot claws but she was too quick. Carmelita shifted her weight, leaping from his body once more and landing besides his head, crouching down at his level.

She drew back her right fist and unleashed a hard punch across his beak. After a moment of roughing him up with a few left and right hooks, the bird crowed his last, giving up the ghost. He keeled over, growing silent. Carmelita stood up, once more, heading down the hallway again. She grumbled to herself about having forgotten to ask him where to find this Sire guy.

Carmelita couldn't help but scold herself for getting _too_ rowdy before interrogation. It's happened before on a few occasions and this time was no exception. However, she was given another chance. Her eyes narrowed, spying someone else coming, further down the corridor.

A female moose walked down the next hallway over and Carmelita approached her from behind. As soon as the woman approached an office door, Carmelita charged from behind. She shoved the woman in through the door, slamming it shut behind herself. The woman moose was knocked to the ground, turning about to look up at Inspector Fox. The vixen folded her arms, glaring down at the woman whose lipstick was now smeared across the side of her mouth.

"Where am I; where can I find SG1, known as The Sire? Where can I find my gear?" Carmelita's tone was full of demand. She drew her right fist back in a threatening manner.

"Lady, The Sire sees NOBODY," The large woman grumbled. Carmelita was quick to snatch the female moose by the ears and force her up to a half-kneeling position. The cop, without a license to arrest, knew she had to rough people up to get things to move in a state of progression. She'd done this to dozens of criminals and even had a reputation for it. She drew her fist back again, then delivered a pulverizing punch across the moose's snout.

The woman flopped back to the floor with a groan and Carmelita was shaking her paw with a wince. However, she got the point across and the over-tall woman cringed the next time Inspector Fox drew her fist back. "Now, where can I find him and where am I? Furthermore, where is my stuff?"

"I don't know where your 'stuff' is, but you're in Prague! It is the Castle of Vohzd Voorhemes. It overlooks the city but it is a few miles from the actual residential and commercial districts. Now lay off!" cried the larger woman. Carmelita smirked.

"Looks more like an office in here than a castle, are you lying to me?" The Inspector asked.

The moose was adamant. "No! Look out the nearest window! You're crazy! Now get away from me! If you want The Sire, you should go and find him yourself! I don't know, now leave me alone!"

"I can't have a whistle blower getting in my way," Carmelita said. She suddenly pivoted on her left heel, snapping her body about to deliver a mid-height kick that knocked the moose back to the floor again. She was alive but rendered completely unconscious. Carmelita dusted her paws off and searched the office for a moment. There was nothing special about it, just an accounting computer and a small FM Radio next to a lamp on a desk.

She went back to the hallway, searching each room. Her eyes shifted from left to right and the vixen perked her ears. She came to an intersection and made a right, using her instinct. Carmelita sniffed at the air but there was a mix of dull scent. There was nothing to track in the air at this moment. At the end of the hallway, her eyes spied a double door in red, adorned with gold-painted carvings in the wood. It looked well decorated and important.

A grin tugged at the corner of her muzzle and she began to stalk towards it. "Let's just see what sort of 'prize' is behind the elegant Door Number One," Carmelita murmured under her breath. She tightened her paws into fists and her grin grew more devious looking. She set off towards the door, slow at first but with the intent to force the door open with a hard dash.

With every step, she picked up her pace until she was nearly at a full sprint once she was upon it. At the last moment, in a full run, she jumped into the air, throwing the door wide open with all of her force, putting her weight behind a full, hard kick. The double doors were knocked off their hinges and Carmelita dropped into a roll, coming to her feet almost directly in front of The Sire.

She didn't have her shock pistol or gear yet and her breath caught in her throat, when their eyes locked. "You…" She whispered, immediately narrowing her gaze.

"I see you were looking for me. Steven was quite correct in having guessed every one of your moves. The movement of your entire gang, for that matter," Sire mused, lifting a paw and giving her an almost playful shove against her shoulder. "I had my doubts that you people would survive The Reaper. I'm impressed; Nathaniel was quite an adversary."

"The skunk is dead; Clockwerk decimated him. And you're under arrest for imposing a police officer, trafficking illegal electronics and for hostage holding over several people. Consider this a citizen's arrest," She snapped, balling her paws into fists.

"Steven isn't dead. Did you smell dead skunk, Steven?" The Sire asked. The polecat approached from off to Carmelita's left, causing her to blink in surprise. Had Cooper's gang lied to her or were they perhaps mistaken? She couldn't be sure. "Why don't you tell our friend what's going on here, my friend?" Sire asked of his accomplice.

"I have lost my only brother to that idiot machine," Steven growled softly. "I cloned myself and engineered the gene structure to age quickly through puberty then I found a way to transfer my thoughts and memories into his Cerebral Cortex and Cerebellum. He had these strange dreams and felt compelled to rebuild _my_ greatest failure: a new Clockwerk. I told him that he was wasting his time but stopping him from achieving something based on his dreams was something I could not do," Steven continued to explain.

He frowned thoughtfully then added, "I wanted to see if his dreams could inspire him the way an authentic being could be inspired. I'm convinced that, even though he was a clone, he may have had a soul after all. He was the passionate man that I couldn't be, after I've lived for so very long."

"I thought he lived a long time," Carmelita asked, shifting her eyes between the two men. The lion remained quiet, allowing his true friend to continue the explanation. If they were willing to offer details, any Detective would be willing to listen. It was her fundamental duty as an Inspector.

Steven shook his head, replying to her question with, "Only through the memories that I've placed in his mind. He remembers living for a long time and sometimes, he was confused because he remembers building the first Clockwerk. Sometimes he would become confused and revert to the way I used to speak several centuries ago. But I've evolved with the times and he's only been alive for a few short years. The overload of experiences and memories in his mind without the life long struggle to shape and mature his mind caused him to occasionally grow angry and have outbursts or demented thoughts but he was still my only twin brother in many respects."

Carmelita glanced at The Sire, then looked back to Steven. She had no room to bargain but it was somewhere to start. "I'm sorry to have brought you the news of his death. Clockwerk must be stopped. Perhaps we can reach a short accord to bring justice against Clockwerk in exchange for you both leaving Interpol alone and stepping out of the limelight?"

"Don't be a fool," Sire snapped. "Some of us still have our original agenda. You're not part of it," He told her.

"Diplomacy was never my strongest point," Carmelita mused, shaking her head. She drew her breath in long and slowly, sighing with a roll of her eyes. She then drew her paws back, ready for combat. "I'll have to take you both out the hard way."

Steven simply turned his back on her, crossing the room. He seemed disinterested and acted as though he was completely ignoring her. The Sire, on the other hand, reached his paws up as if he was offering her something. His eyes shimmered as if incandescing with their own unnatural lighting. His aura began to display itself as a colorful bubble around his form. He was nearly glowing from head to toe.

Carmelita growled softly at the back of her throat. That single action caused Steven to glance over his shoulder and raise an eyebrow. The Sire closed his paws keeping his wrists extended in the same fashion and now Carmelita was finding herself struggling over the odd sensation of being attracted to the lion in a way of wanting to trust him.

She didn't feel an attraction of love or desire, but rather an attraction of the mind, the way someone suddenly trusts another person after having their life saved by that being. She attempted to shake off the sense of friendship and confusion but found that it was overwhelmingly awesome and his powers were difficult to deny. Steven was quiet, watching her resist; something he'd never seen before in a mortal. He'd heard that Sly Cooper accomplished it for only a few seconds but it took the power of an artifact that was _presumed_ to be lost, now.

"Sire, my friend, it's quite possible she has somehow obtained the bracelet of Willpower," The real Steven noted aloud. Carmelita narrowed her gaze further, fighting off the powerful psychological effects that Sire's majestic aura was having on her psyche. Sire reached into his vest and pulled out her Shock Pistol, offering it to her, handle first.

"I want you to place this weapon to your head, Carmelita. You can trust me, my dear girl," Sire promised her in a soft, musical voice. That deep, baritone sound was rich and pure to her ears. She wrapped her paw around the handle, snatching the weapon tightly then balked when her arm disobeyed her mind and the barrel came to her head. She struggled, gritting her teeth and curling her toes in an attempt to point the gun anywhere else.

Her chest tightened and her arms were nearly bulging but his mental abilities were overpowering in so many incredible ways. Steven continued to walk across the room and out of her view. The Sire reached out to pat her head, scratching gently between her ears. He leaned forward and whispered to her in a soft, romantically deep voice.

"Carmelita," He said in those subtle, hushed tones, "Your gun is against your head. You would kill yourself if it wasn't for me saving you from that fate. I've saved your life by not telling you to pull the trigger. In return for sparing your life, you should trust me. That trust creates a bond of friendship. As my friend, I ask a favor of you.

"I need for you to take this gun and find your arch enemy, Sly Cooper. I want you to hunt him down and shock him. I want you to bring him to me and I will reprogram him to steal artifacts across the globe. These artifacts are necessary to complete the goals of my own personal dreams. Can you do this for me? Can you trust me, Carmelita Montoya Fox?"

She struggled to defy his will. She fought the reprogramming of her mind and struggled to break the spellbinding state that was settling in her brain. She'd come too far for this. She'd held out against this sort of thing when it happened before (A/N: _Sly2 Band of Thieves, in the Contessa's Prague Laboratory_) and she beat it in the past. Why was it so difficult now?

"Once Sly has stolen these artifacts, I want you to kill him," Sire whispered to her.

"…N-no! He must live," She struggled to reply, weakly. The Sire was the first man to ever cause her willpower to falter. No other being had such power over her mind. She was reeling from the sense of insanity that she was battling. She had an incredible headache and every word he asked seemed logical to her and yet she felt insane to question him.

"You must obey me as you obey your Law System. I _am_ the Law, Carmelita," Sire whispered. His hot breath was caressing her flesh and fur and his lips brushed against the golden hoop at the tip of her ear. It felt like being home yet she was struggling to question this authority. It felt as impossibly difficult as if she were questioning every rule and regulation she had ever vowed to uphold.

Carmelita felt as though she was in an alternative reality questioning her own existence. She was struggling to grip the situation. She was questioning herself. She could hardly understand herself and the confusion was overwhelming. Sire's hot breath poured over her earlobe, sickeningly sweet like swimming in a tangible blanket of warmth. She'd never done anything wrong or illegal in her past and fighting his brainwashing felt like breaking every law she stood for.

The lion could see he was on the verge of breaking her now. He smiled softly into the tender whisper. "You do as I ask and it brings you inner satisfaction. You regain your inner will when you accomplish goals that I've set for you. I am law and you uphold my will with the order that I give you. I am your balance. I am your anchor and your rock of security," Sire whispered. "My _desires_ are the justice of your world. And I _desire_ Sly Cooper."

"He's just a man," She sobbed. "These artifacts cannot be stolen. They can only be delivered to their proper owner."

The lion wasn't about to give up. "They do belong to me. I need for their safe return," He lied. "I want them to be brought to me. They are crucial. Without them, I cannot awaken Clockwerk's new true spirit."

"That spirit is one of evil; we must stop it and destroy Clockwerk?" She protested softly. She was so confused now, that her statement came out in the form of a question, as if questioning her own thoughts on the matter.

"Clockwerk must live and Sly Cooper must _die_," The Sire said firmly. Carmelita's eyes went wide. She had a far-off look in her gaze as if she had come to a realization for the first time in her life. It was obvious that something had clicked in her mind because she seemed far away as if her attention was on another plane.

Sire continued to talk but she was no longer listening after that point. She lived an entire lifetime in a split moment. Her mind showed her every dream she had suffered through in the last week all at once. Every single time, Sly Cooper died and she was crushed. She couldn't let it happen in reality.

Carmelita's jaw went slack, dropping open to mirror the distant gaze she held. Her stupefied expression came with silence on her behalf. The end of the world would come from Sly Cooper stealing these artifacts in lieu of his child with Karla Chintzy. Now that Karla was dead, these people were trying to get Sly to steal these artifacts.

The original plan was to cause Sly's bloodline to mix with an Immortal woman's blood, using the Cooper family engagement pendant, the Stone Of Fertility; Karla's death ruined that plot. Now all focus was centered on Sly Cooper, the last raccoon Master Thief of his line. While an Immortal Master Thief child would have been unstoppable and would not question Sire's orders, Sly was a liability who would have to die upon completing the mission. Of course, Steven had his own plans for Sly Cooper.

These artifacts, once assembled, would resurrect the ancient evil which would then be placed into the new Clockwerk as a host body. From there, The Demon would be unstoppable. Now that Karla was dead, Sly became the key to their operation's success. Sly Cooper was the last remaining Master Thief and only a person with his abilities would be able to steal every necessary component to bring the Master of Evil into the world of the physical.

And that's when Carmelita realized that she was the only one standing in their way. If Steven could clone himself, he would have no problems cloning Sly Cooper. It _dawned_ _on her_ that they needed for her to bring Sly Cooper back to them. If Steven's explanation of how he transferred his thoughts to his clone was any indication, then it was her biggest clue to figuring this whole thing out.

They needed Sly Cooper so they could transfer all his abilities and everything he's learned into a clone, then kill the original so that nobody was left to stop them. The Sire had been lying to her the entire time. He just wanted her to bring Sly back, skip to the chase and kill Sly Cooper as soon as they got him hooked up to a machine. Their entire scheme became clear to the Inspector in that instant.

Her arms suddenly lifted subconsciously. Sire was thrown backwards, away from her. He stumbled for a moment only to realize that she was now pointing her weapon directly in his face. "Sly Cooper is mine. You can't have him and you can't clone him. He won't be forced into helping you with your fiendish plans!" She shouted.

"Oh, Carmelita," Sire said, shaking his head slowly. "We already _have_ cloned Sly Cooper. All we need is for the original Sly to be brought to us so we can transfer his life experiences and everything he's learned from the Thievious Raccoonus into our backup plan's mind."

"I'll never help you. Without the real Sly Cooper, you can't successfully steal your stupid artifacts!" Carmelita bellowed, keeping her gun level in The Sire's face.

"If you don't help us get Sly Cooper, we'll go to Russia and capture him for ourselves. What is it going to be, Carmelita?" Sire growled softly.

"Sly and I will stop you and your imposter!" Carmelita snapped.

"Oh I doubt it," Sire rebutted playfully, with a grin. "We'd just kill you both and use his friends to locate the Thievious Raccoonus with faux promises of your safe return. We would teach our clone of Sly Cooper and condition him for this job. It would be better if he was part immortal because then we wouldn't have to worry about him dying while trying to obtain these artifacts, but as Steven usually says, one must always have several back up plans. If you don't help us, then _you_ must die. It's a shame, too. The son of Karla and Sly; an immortal master thief… he would have been so obedient, as children are often too naïve to question something of this magnitude."

"I'll never help you!" She shouted, pulling the trigger. At point blank range, the gunshot should have been a lethal blow but to her surprise, the shot was deflected. Steven reproached The Sire and folded his arms across his chest. Carmelita fired the gun again but it bounced off of an unseen force. An invisible protective shield had been activated, putting a barrier between them and Inspector Fox.

"Thanks for giving the Shock Pistol back to me," Carmelita said with a smirk. "I'll be back soon. And when I am, you'll be _sorry_." She warned, offering a tight-lipped glare. Her soft, velveteen tiers were pursed in a thin-line of threat and her eyes burned with rage.

"You'll never be able to defeat my greatest invention," Steven chuckled at her. "You'll never beat Slick Cooper, the Dark Raccoon." Steven's voice faded as Carmelita broke into a sprint, heading out of the room. She dashed down the hall, looking for the nearest way out of the building. She had to get back to Bentley and the rest of the Cooper Gang and let them know what's going on. She had to hurry.

It only took a few moments to find a staircase. Once she did, the Inspector took the steps two at a time, occasionally jumping the half-flight, 15 stairs at once. She whirled about in the square staircase that was currently labeled at "Floor 13". Was it true? Was there really a clone of Sly Cooper? Were they just playing with her mind or did this imposter exist? Why did they let her go? Did they want her to lead them to the real Sly? She had thousands of questions running through her head all at once, now that the confusing sensations had worn off.

Carmelita finally came to the second floor sign but she balked when she realized that there were no more descending stairs. She kicked a metal swing-door open and walked out into the room. It was filled with machinery from wall to wall and organized into rows. There had to be another staircase that took her to the first floor. She began pacing the rows of computers, searching for a way out.

The aisles of electronic devices were all taller than she was, but she could tell by the height of the ceiling that this was a fairly tall room. It was at least two or three stories in height and she could see that the labyrinth of computers was far more extensive than she initially realized. Miss Fox broke into a sprint, coming to the end of one row then turning left at a metallic intersection and breaking into a run, once more. The further she went, the closer she came to the center of the lab.

Suddenly, she found herself in a clearing, surrounded by a metaphorical metallic forest. In the center was a glass pillar filled with water. It was foggy with condensation but there was a shadowy figure inside. Carmelita approached it cautiously, keeping her gun at the ready. She stopped in front of the massive glass pillar and reached her left paw out, wiping away the cloudy condensation from the glassy structure.

Her heart stopped. Her breath caught in her throat and she couldn't find it to breathe; her lungs ceased from shock. Her knees felt soft and she wanted to sit down just so that she could take all of this in; it was intense. With an unconfident step, she stumbled back, just gawking at the contents of the tube. Her jaw hung wide open.

Within the glass pillar, a black furred raccoon with three gray stripes around the tail was housed in silence. He was bare of clothing and had several suction-cups over his body with wires leading out the back of the glass tube. On occasion, they would send small jolts of electricity into his body, stimulating the growth of his muscles. Every so often, his leg, arm or face would twitch from the current.

A reading on a monitor directly beneath the tube displayed his current muscle mass at 75 Percent of maximum ability. While standing there, Carmelita noticed the reading change to 76 percent. She continued to gawk for another moment then she lifted her pistol and shot at the glass chamber. Her shot was deflected, bouncing off of a computer terminal that appeared to be completely bullet proof.

"I've got to warn the others," She mouthed in silence. After another moment, she began to find her voice once more. She finally announced, "These criminals are also guilty of illegally cloning a sentient man without the UN's expressed permission. This imposter cannot be allowed to carry out their plans! I thought this was nearly finished when I killed Karla Chintzy but this is only the beginning!" She exclaimed.

Her ears perked up instinctivly. Without further warning, she began to pivot, putting her body in motion. A mechanical whirring noise had filled the area. She glanced over her shoulder just in time to see two mini-guns beginning to rotate. The scaled down chain-gun attachments of Steven's robotic attack suit were revving up, on his shoulders. She dove out of the way just as the first one hundred rounds ripped from the duel spinning barrels.

Each barrel consisted of four metal tubes that spun each time a round of shells were fed into the weapon. A cacophony of loud gunshots ripped through the quiet laboratory. Until now an ambient humming noise was all that could be heard from the city of computers; each had their own cooling fan, buzzing softly to draw in the cool climate controled environment and expell the mechanically generated heat.

They were so loud they drowned out the air conditioning for this room but in sharp contrast, Steven's combat suit shattered the dull, ambiant humming with ease. Those high velocity rounds ripped from the twin shoulder-mounted mini-guns. She moved quickly, in order to avoid being turned into swiss cheese.

Bullets bounced in every which way, each one forced to ricochet off of the bullet proof computer equipment. She leapt upwards and grabbed the top of one large gray computer server, pulled herself on top of it then dove over to the other side of it, seconds before being riddled with holes. The mini chain-guns came to a stop, ending on an electric sounding whine. Carmelita panted softly, looking around for another way out. She could now hear the gentle metallic thumping of each footstep made by Steven, still inside of the combat suit.

Only two suits existed. One had been stolen by Bentley, belonging to Steven's clone; the other was now in use by Steven, himself. Carmelita ran away from the noise of the machine's footsteps. She scrambled up the side of another wall of computers, then stood atop of them for a moment, scanning for an exit door.

Across from the way she came in, there was another stairwell with an arrow pointing down above the doorway. She began to run, carefully balancing herself, along the top of the computers. She could see the bubble-shaped cockpit top of the machine several rows away, waking by and changed her direction to better avoid crossing paths with it. She had to hurry.

Her feet carried her with grace and once she crossed the immense laboratory, she paused to look back over her shoulder. Several rows back was a large glass pillar that rose from out of the center of the complex room. It was filled with liquid and foggy with condensation. She could see that the labyrinth of computers consisted of an extensive set of rows that would take hours to navigate without a map. Did they all have a purpose? It seemed incredible to think that every single one of them had a job and a purpose.

Each super computer had a task of properly breaking down and decoding DNA of Sly Cooper taken from a sample of his blood during an early capture, only yesterday. Each computer to the left of every super computer was given the task of archiving the information incase of power loss, followed by another computer to rewrite the strand of code. Another computer was given the task of archiving the rewritten information while another computer in the row was given the task of processing the data and analyzing it for weaknesses and making repairs where necessary.

These rows were compiled of several computers per section. All of the rows combined simply created a maze of machinery which had only one purpose… to create a perfect Sly Cooper Clone, affectionately named Slick Cooper. They were undoubtedly already tested to make Steven's clone but that man was dead now. Even the perfect creations had flaws.

Carmelita couldn't allow this to be finished. She knew she had to hurry. She ran along the top of the computer rows, approaching the door on the other end of the room. She hopped back down to the floor and took that staircase down to the ground level.

It was time to get out of here and hurry back to the Cooper Gang. She needed to warn them that some psycho imposter was about to be added to their list of problems. It all seemed impossible. And yet, she knew she had to press on. Carmelita Fox dashed through the archaic looking lobby. It was far different than what she'd seen so far, decked out in dark stones from one end to the other.

Her senses were assaulted by darkness and mystery, at times smothering in its intensity. When Inspector Fox stopped, she felt curiously as though she were a peasant come to call upon the Grand Manor of old. The carpet in the entrance was red and soft under her boots. Crimson curtains with velvet lining hung, dividing the entrance and the lobby itself. They were pulled back and fastened with ornate gargoyles, their bulky arms holding the drapery in a tight fisted strangle.

Carmelita's eyes wondered the area, cautiously scanning for guards but there were none to be seen, just yet. The floors were a deep dark wood, and the walls were blocks of stones... basalt it appeared to be... of the most abysmal black. Here and there it was shot through with an odd vein of white. At times it looked much like lightning arcing across a midnight sky in a thin line of threat.

She narrowed her eyes, which reflected the soft flickering light of the sconces which held candles with in them. They only added to the ambiance, and hung in countless numbers along the walls. Traditional lighting consisted of recessed lights that were barely visible in the ceiling, along with ornate wrought iron chandeliers, complete with modernized bulbs.

There was a receptionist desk but it was shaped more like a bar counter along one far wall. A petite woman was sitting behind it, more than half way down, looking oddly out of place. Constructed of pewter, mahogany, smoked glass and basalt; it seemed to stretch for miles, housing a tiny hipped hamster with puffy cheeks. She had a baby face and looked completely ridiculous sitting there with a smile. She waved to Carmelita, boisterously.

"Hello, madam, can I help direct you somewhere today?" Her chipper, cheerful voice was a stark contrast from the dreary surroundings. Carmelita nearly balked, narrowing her eyes at the girl.

"Downtown Prague?" The vixen's inquiry was simple and to the point.

"Just take the highway, east bound towards the buildings on the horizon. Follow it right into town square. Anything else I can do for you today, miss?" She asked. Her pleasant voice was sickeningly sweet like a broken bees nest, dripping with honey, on the floor of a soured vineyard. Carmelita eyed her suspiciously, heading for the door.

"Tell your boss that he's a crazy, demented lunatic," Carmelita instructed, adding, "Ask him what he plans to do with the world if he succeeds in taking it over and tell him that his psychotic behavior will not be tolerated and that the United Nations will nuke this building if they find out the extent of his terrorist-like ways. Tell him that Interpol will find him out and he'll be ruined when the dust settles. What do you have to say to that? Did you get it all, or should I repeat it?"

"I'm sorry," Said the young lady, barely 18 years old, "I've not met him. I'm only here for today. My temp-agency located me here as a part-timer because the normal secretary is out with the Flu. I'd rather not back-talk him because then he won't sign my temp-agency time sheet. Is there anything else I can do for you today?"

Carmelita blinked, shaking her head. "Interpol is hiring interns, full and part time. Good pay, great benefits. Go check it out kid," Carmelita muttered, heading for the door. She pushed the double doors open and walked outside, heading towards the highway. She turned to look at the building over her shoulder and frowned. It was breathtaking.

It was all that she had expected it to be, with the archaic theme carried out upon the exterior. The building was free standing, hinting oddly at a feudal estate. A bell tower was perched upon its top. The tower's look was completed with archaic bell. She had to wonder if it tolled the Midnight hour, then surmised it was only for special occasion as it looked new and shiny. There was even a possibility that the bell was never used before. Behind the smaller building, a grand castle stood as majestic as one could ever hope for.

The doors she'd just come through were equally decorated. On each door hung one ever-watching Gargoyle with its wings folded back against its body in ominous form. Jeweled red eyes gleamed from their place deep within the creatures head, and seemed to beckon anyone that looked their way. Inspector Fox's eyes roamed upward and took in the lobby tower at a glance. The slats above the bell were decked out in stained glass that was articulate and beautiful. Garnet colored and lit, it seemed as jewel-like as the Gargoyle's eyes.

A shiver ran down Carmelita's spine and she turned her attention back towards the rest of Prague, beginning her hike back towards the town. Her shoulders were slumped and she felt as though the severity of all these terrible instances were weighing upon her shoulders. The crestfallen vixen continued to jog down the side of the snowy highway, leaving footprints in her wake that would cover up only moments later from the heavy snow.

Thick, plump specks of precipitation rained from the sky, giving the castle behind her a picture perfect backdrop. It was the cover of a postcard provided that nobody knew what sort of evil was brewing within its walls. Time was growing short. She had to hurry….

* * *

**Sly's train had** beaten the storm, heading north. Now in western Russia, the night was clear and the stars shined from above, mirroring his own eyes which twinkled with mirth. It had been a long time since he'd performed a real heist. The job at Interpol was just a warm-up, alluding to the real work ahead. 

He was now donning a security disguise and held a leather briefcase in his right paw, which was weighed down with enough explosives and gadgets to make even a mercenary sweat. The train station was fairly quiet at this hour and Sly descended the boarding plank with only a few others in the area to join him. The ranks of the passengers thinned out and Sly soon found himself alone.

The thieving raccoon found his way to the Museum and stopped in the back of an alley to quickly change. It was a bit cold for changing clothes but Sly was quick to move. Upon finishing, he gave himself a look-over, heading in through the front door. There was a guard out front, smoking a cigarette. Donning the fabricated uniform, the imposter guard went in through the front doors and assumed his position on the top floor by a large set of windows, away from any main security cameras. In twenty minutes, the floor would be locked down and he'd move to steal.

Something caught Sly's eye through the window, however. It was a bright light down the end of the block. He took his binoc-u-com from his pack and zoomed in on the strange occurrence. From his position, he could see two people moving through the streets. One was in a wheelchair and one with a bushy tail who was carrying a gun. Sly had a strange sensation come over him and squinted, zooming in on the pair.

From first glance, he was almost positive it was Bentley and Carmelita so he patched a radio communication through the binocular communicator. "Bentley, you're still in Prague, right?"

"Yeah, of course I am. Are you in position?" Bentley replied; his tiny face was on the monitor on the lower left side of the goggle communicator.

The raccoon squinted again but the two people were moving out of position from the angle he was standing at. "I must be seeing things. I thought I saw you and Inspector Fox hurrying through the streets of Moscow, but one of them was in a wheelchair that looked remarkably like your tricked out seat. I had a two hour nap on the train but it must be nerves or something. I'm in position," Sly replied.

"I worry about you sometimes, Sly," Bentley mused. The tortoise shook his head slowly and added, "Sly, you'll need to keep your focus here. Let's not get distracted by some guy in a wheel chair and a pretty lady. You know I'm using my bionic leg attachment, now."

Sly nodded slowly, pulling the binoc-u-com from his face to rub at his eyes for a moment with the back side of his paw. "You're right. I'm on the heist. I'll contact you as soon as I've finished."

"Speaking of Inspector Fox, she's just come back and looks either exasperated or upset. I'm going to take care of this. We'll see you when the mission is completed. Bentley out."

Cooper nodded slightly, adding, "Well at least I know she's in Prague. That's a solid trip from Moscow. I'll catch up with you guys shortly," Sly said. The communication patch closed and Sly turned about to get started. He felt at the top of his stealing game but there was something odd that didn't sit right in the back of his mind. Intuition perhaps? He wasn't sure because, at the same time, he felt as though this was going to become a successful job. How could one feel good about a mission and at the same time, sense an absolute catastrophe waiting around the next corner? Only _time_ would tell…

* * *

A/N: _Everything goes CRAZY IN THE NEXT CHAPTER! BWAH HAA HA HAA HA. What sort of strange phenomenon has Sly Cooper just witnessed? What sort of twisted scheme did Carmelita stumble upon? How does Clockwerk and Penelope play into this? Will the tank be ready in time? Will Murray finish off the bosses and get those parts necessary FOR the tank to begin with? Well, the last one I'll answer for ya… Yeah, Murray succeeds but things get rough for him in time. I know this chapter was long but the last two chapters were important to set the stage for the next one… Chapter 18: "Paradox Of Destruction." I've not settled on a name for Chapter 19 yet. It will be called either "Picking Up The Pieces" or "The last Hope." But it's going to be a doosey. For those of you interested in my Sly-Series progress… I'm up to the PIRATE board in Sly3. Penelope just got ganked by the gang-plank-swank. Sorry, I'm using a Dialectizer to talk JIVE. That's why Dimitri was so easy to write for this chapter. Short lil' Cameo, I figured it was for fun. ;) _

_See ya in a few days when Chapter 18 goes up:D It's going to show just how evil "Vengeance" can be: Past, present or future! See ya soon! _


	18. PARADOX

A/N: _For the first time, I have realized that I've got readers who don't know the Sly Cooper game universe. They read to read but are not familiar with the characters. I add in some Author notes here and there to help with that or to remind readers where a suggestion, comment or detail originates from… Thus the foot notes you see throughout my story. In word2002/3, I make a small dot symbol. Then in the footnotes spot, I add them in, so that they show up at the bottom of the printed page but Fan Fiction is weird… It puts them all over the place, in the middle of paragraphs and weird stuff. Blah. This paradox will be explained as the chapter progresses. This may become an emotional chapter for some… so be warned :)_

_-kit

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Chapter 18: Paradox Of Destruction

**Carmelita shook her head**, vehemently, explaining, "It wasn't an effigy of Sly. It was a photo negative; a carbon copy gone wrong. He was black furred with a gray mask and three gray stripes around his tail. We've got to stop this imposter and we've got to stop Steven and The Sire; they're absolutely mad!" She was absolutely adamant about this.

Bentley and Penelope exchanged confused looks. Bentley took his bicycle helmet off and reached to scratch his head, turning to the mouse he'd been working closely with. The construction of the Tank required parts that Murray was supposed to retrieve. Murray had called in and spoke to Penelope upon Carmelita's return. Turns out that Murray was having trouble.

Bentley finally sighed, shaking his head. "Okay, I understand but we don't have any means to go and attack a fortified castle with its own defense measures. We might be able to use this tank against it but then Sly is stuck in Moscow without support. We can't be in two places at once! We have to prioritize our plans, here. Clockwerk isn't going anywhere anytime soon. So let's go after this "Slick Cooper". Can you help Murray with retrieving the parts for this tank, so we can use it to wage an assault on the castle?"

Carmelita began to grow calm, nodding to his plan. "I hate working with you people; you're all criminals but… I respect and appreciate your help in launching an assault on this castle. Can we find some way to flatten it all at once?"

"I'll look up a contact in China," Bentley told her. "Jing King and Panda King will help me work out a structural plan as Panda is a demolitions expert. I'll pull the blue prints from the city archive micro-film and we'll attack an hour before sunrise. Just… stop shouting and go help Murray so we can get this done. We're rushing the tank construction now. Let's hurry. We'll finish it tonight and we can sleep tomorrow."

Carmelita nodded, appeased that they were going to move forward immediately. "All right, I'll go back out into the field and help Murray. I've got my shock pistol back; it's a good place to start. I can't have some evil version of Cooper out there stealing these artifacts. I'll be back with Murray within the hour. If anyone finds out I was working with you people, I'll deny it."

"Your secret is safe with us, Inspector Fox. I printed up the directions to where Murray is," Bentley replied. Carmelita nodded sternly, trying not to be scornful. She knew that this stage was necessary before destroying this freak. Killing him would buy Sly time. At least, that's the way she thought. She knew that Sly was just pulling a heist.

This new enemy had brought about such a swirl of negative sentiment that she was still reeling from this, emotionally. She had to do what she'd trained her mind to do and put work first. Her job was her anchor and her badge was a rock to cling to. Without them, she only had her sense of duty. Keeping busy meant keeping stable. She snatched the directions from Bentley and glanced at them.

"This is rather close," She murmured to herself. After giving the directions a second look over, she handed the page back to Bentley and nodded firmly. "I'll be back when we have the parts you require. Get yourself coffee now, because you're both staying up all night until this tank is finished. This is really big. We can't afford mistakes."

Carmelita left through the door, heading into the snow. Bentley turned to Penelope and frowned. "You really think there's a clone of Sly out there being grown in a tube? Where did they get the DNA?"

Penelope put a paw to her chin pensively, giving the situation some thought. "Didn't Sly get into a fight during his incarceration? I'm sure he has fur or maybe even blood on the floor that could be used. Either that, or if he was unconscious at any point of time, someone could have taken DNA from him when he didn't know about it. I don't see how it's possible to grow a clone in 24 hours, though."

"It seems quite impossible to achieve an adult clone in such a short time," Bentley grumbled. "Something isn't adding up. This will play out a little more before it makes sense, I'm sure. How's it coming with the electronics coupling?" The tortoise asked.

"I could really use a hand with it, to be honest," Penelope admitted. Bentley approached her, using his bionic legs and picked up the converter in his hands. She gave him a soft smile. "I'm really impressed, Bentley. You've made such confident strides since rebuilding your legs."

"Oh, well, uhm," Bentley gave an awkward smile. "Thank you. I'll take that as a compliment, any day." He immediately began tinkering with the converter again.

Penelope lifted her paws, placing them on top of the device. Bentley glanced up at her then looked off to the right just a bit. She leaned to press her lips to his cheek and at the same time, he closed his eyes and turned towards her, starting to speak again. "Penelope, I was thinking that the converter should be…" He paused. Due to the way he turned to the left, their lips met and the turtle tensed up.

Penelope froze as well but after a short minute, she decided that there was nothing wrong with the way it felt and the kiss grew, lasting nearly a full moment. Bentley wanted to sneeze at first from the anxiety of the situation but once he grew comfortable with the sensation, the need to sneeze passed. They both melted into the bliss of it all. Once the moment passed, Penelope reached up to run her fingers over his head, leaning back to smile into his eyes.

"That was… I mean," Bentley stammered. He finally took a long, slow breath to calm himself. "Thank you, I needed that."

"So did I; I think that's why I did it," She replied. "We're fooling ourselves, Bentley."

"How… How so?" The turtle asked, nearly growing anxious again at the possible suggestion that they were fooling one another's emotions in any way. Penelope lifted her snow-white paw to stop him, then placed her finger upon his lips with a tender touch.

"Not how I meant for that to come out. I'm just as nervous as you are," She replied, adding, "We were so gung-ho for a relationship last year. We moved in together, we constructed a new Cooper vault; we built the Temporal Chronometer Transporter and countless small objects. We had RC Robot fight matches… and every time we tried to move in the direction of a relationship, we both felt too awkward to put our bearings towards that path. We were comfortable with spending time together but we were always too shy to do anything more than holding hands. That has to stop, Bentley. I want this to move forward. I want an "_us_". You are mastering technology every day that could one day be used in giving you your natural mobility back. I'm so very impressed and I see you as the brave man you really are."

Bentley placed the converter on the workbench, took her paws into his hands and, with a trembling lip, forced the courage to do something he'd always wanted to do. Using the bionic legs, he was able to do something he could only dream of doing to her in the past…. He leaned forward, kissed her, then dipped the mouse at the waist, leaning into the kiss in such a passionate way that his nervous tendencies were forgotten for the moment and the kiss became their world. Everything was right in the universe for now. He had her permission to do it and she gasped at his actions.

Her gasp wasn't in shock but in excitement. Her heart pounded harder in her chest and she submitted to the sensuality of his step. He was kissing her the way a fantasy hero would kiss the ElvinPrincess in one of her science fiction fantasy books. Once the kiss ended, he still held her in a suspended dip so that her blonde locks hung only inches above the floor.

"You really put a flame in my heart," Bentley whispered to her, trying his best to shrug off how nervous and anxious this was making him. He tried to think of something _more_ romantic but that was all that came out.

"Then let's light this candle, shall we?" She asked in an equally subtle tone.

"You know what it does to me when you use NASA connotations," Bentley admitted to her, his lower lip still trembling. He knew he had to stay strong and confident to do this. The legs helped with his confidence, that was the catalyst, he surmised.

"That's why I do it," She admitted, looking up into his eyes.

"You're one heck of a woman," Bentley said with a growing grin of comfort and inner strength.

Penelope, batting those lush lashes, reached up and took her glasses off. She then leaned up so that her lips slid across his, brushing soft lips against his jade flesh. Then her words came, partially muffled, between the near-kiss and her grin. "That's what it says on my web page." And with that, she leaned up that extra centimeter so that their lips meshed together once more in a full, deep kiss.

* * *

**Carmelita made tracks** in the snow. She reached down and scooped up some snow in her left paw and crushed it in her fist until it was compacted. She slid to a halt in front of the main door then put her paw out, using the snow to cover her paw so as not to leave prints on the metallic door. She stepped in, dropping the snow on the ground and pulling her shock pistol to the ready. 

There was a table in the middle of the room with poker cards strewn about. Several empty chairs surrounded the table and there was no one to be found in the area. She noted a hole in the wall, leading outside, to her immediate left and frowned. "This is getting weirder by the minute," the vixen said to herself.

She was trying to keep her focus on the here-and-now but her attention began to drift back to what she saw in that Laboratory. How dare they clone Sly Cooper and turn him into some sort of science experiment! The thought alone was enough to piss her off. She tightened her left paw into a fist, gritting her teeth. She was a trained officer of the law and all of this stuff was building on her shoulders again.

Wondering into the back office, she was starting to seethe as the reality of what she'd seen in the last two days was beginning to settle in. Nudging the door to the secondary back office, Carmelita stepped in, blinking rapidly at the sight. Murray was alive but he seemed injured beyond capacity.

She approached the hippo and knelt down besides him. For a short moment, her anger and pent up emotions were placed into a jar with a loose lid. She put her fingers against his neck to check for a pulse. His blood pressure was low and his pulse was slow. He'd been out numbered and all because she had to go tearing off on her own instead of being a team player.

The vixen narrowed her eyes, punching a nearby chair, biting her lower lip to hold back the tears of anxiety. In order to stop Clockwerk and stop Sly's clone, she knew the entire team would have to be running at full capacity and with the strongman driver beat to shreds, it wasn't looking too good.

"You're going to be all right," She told him, whether he was completely conscious or not. "This isn't anything another bag of jelly beans wouldn't help, is it?" She asked in a faint attempt at humor.

A shadow eclipsed her from above and she looked up. One of the mafia bosses that had come to play cards tonight was standing behind her, pushing his sleeves up. He had a cut lip and a bruise that caused his left eye to swell shut but he fared far better than Murray. She stood up slowly, trembling to retain her composure but found it was difficult.

"As a police officer, I've come to confiscate your building for official police business. You can leave now with your tail and your pride intact. Now gather your goons and get out," Carmelita said, wavering on the line between calm and calamity. Her head was swimming and the headache that she'd tried to forget about was pounding now.

"Lady, get your fat friend out of my shop and I'll let ya live. How's that sound?" The mutt's words were all she needed to go off. An emotional explosion was the result. Before he could react, she swung her right paw out, pistol whipping him across the muzzle. Her left hand was already going for his collar and she pivoted hard, throwing all her weight into the maneuver, slamming him up against the opposite wall.

She put the shock pistol's yawning muzzle over his snout, making it impossible for him to open his canine-shaped jaw. "You have _no idea_ what I've seen in the last two days. I said it before and I'll say it again," She growled, coming to pause at the end to take a long, slow breath.

She then pulled the gun from his face and whipped him with it again, one time for every word she spoke, "I!" she shouted, "AM!" Another strike across his face, "INTERPOL!" She concluded, hitting him one last time, with all her might. "DO YOU HEAR ME? ARE YOU UNDERSTANDING THIS?" She shouted at the top of her lungs. Even Murray, in his state of extreme injury, had to wince at the overly dramatic shouting.

She drew the pistol back again, then paused, seeing him cringe. She drew in a deep breath and gritted her teeth, speaking through them. "This metal shop might be mafia owned but it has just been commandeered by Interpol, and unless you want to see me angry, I suggest you leave."

Suddenly a massive paw gripped her shoulder. She was lifted in the air and hardly had time to gasp. Carmelita was slammed into the floor, having been thrown through the office door and out into the workshop area. From then on, her emotions ran wild and her temper had reached its boiling point. Carmelita stood up, her eyes blazing with rage.

She didn't see the Gorilla or the mutt or the other mafia bosses. She didn't see anything except for red. She was blinded by rage and yet her mind fell back upon its training to evade attackers and bring the fight to them. She immediately stormed through the door and executed a roundhouse kick at the first boss, who she had already beaten up.

He went down quickly. She jerked about, firing off the shock pistol at point blank range, causing the massive ape to seize. She shot him two more times, then slapped the gun across his face. Once he was down, another high voltage blast was hammered into his convulsing body. She planted her foot into his chest and leapt upwards, kicking another one of the mafia bosses across the face.

Simultaneous to her athletic jump kick, she had her gun pointed outwards and squeezed the trigger. The cobalt discharge lanced across the office, striking another mafia boss and throwing him clear into a desk which collapsed beneath his weight. The table legs shot out from under the desk, one striking the gorilla and the other slamming into the mutt with the swollen eye, hitting both men in random places on their torso. She then turned about and buried her left fist into the last man standing, plugging him with a shock round.

The one that had been jump kicked was starting to get to his feet but was finished off with a swift kick in the face. He went from kneeling to being laid out on his back, unconscious. Her fist was balled up and her other paw tightened around the gun handle, forcefully shoving it into a holster. She tensed her body up until her face turned bright red and tears streamed down her cheeks.

A string of vituperative cursing was directed towards the group of men in the room as she stomped across the fallen, in order to get back to Murray. Each stomp caused a grunt or groan in passing over them. Once she reached Murray, she knelt besides him, panting from the tantrum.

Once Carmelita regained her breath, she reached up to run her fingers through her hair, trying to calm down. "Are… you able to walk, Murray?"

"I'll be okay. I don't think I'll be fighting any more tonight, though," He said softly, trying to sit up. She would have helped him but she was still trembling from the adrenaline. Once he got to his feet, she waved for him to follow, "Lets get the stuff we need, find a cart to transport it and get out of here. We've got all new troubles on our plate and I can't even begin to talk about it right now." She was obviously too keyed up to go into whatever was making her angry. "Let's move."

* * *

**Sly turned back** to the camera. He marched several paces then stopped directly beneath the security camera. He pulled his cane out of the back of his belt and reached it upwards, using the hook to disable the cable plug in the back. Once the red flashing light flickered out, he turned about and began his marching towards the next waypoint. He only had two more cameras left to go. 

Once they were out of the way, he made his way towards the jewelry exhibition. The case was on a time lock release and looked beyond his ability. Sly simply smirked. There was no way to break through the case without a bomb that would destroy the pearls. He gave the situation some thought then turned to head for the security office.

Once inside, Sly seated himself in front of the floor plan manual and began to skim through the pages. He found the information on the time lock release and checked a pocket watch that was part of his guard uniform. The display closed at 2100 hours, when the museum doors locked. The exhibit cycled through its time release lock at 2130 hours. The guard shift change was at 10 and he was now an hour too late.

After a moment, Sly freed his binoc-u-com, taking a glance around the empty security office, then called Bentley. On the other end, Bentley picked up, looking rather smitten. Sly blinked twice then offered his old chum a grin. "I've got a timing problem. I'm 22 and-a-half hours too early to open this case. It's on an automatic time release system that cycles the lock for the cleaning lady to come and dust the case at 9:30pm. I'll have to come back tomorrow night and finish this."

"Normally I'd be upset because of how long this is taking," Bentley began. "But to be honest, it might be better that way. I'll try and send Carmelita up there to help you out. Murray was hurt on his mission and I'm starting to realize that we're all safer in numbers. Sneak out and find a place to stay tonight. She'll leave right away on the first train out."

"Roger that. Oh and Bentley?" Sly asked.

The turtle was caught off guard, rebutting with a simple, "Yeah?"

The raccoon couldn't help but grin. "You've got lipstick on your collar. And I didn't even know Penelope _wore_ lipstick. Aren't _you_ the dirty rascal, Bent!" Sly quickly closed the channel before Bentley could verbally reply, leaving the tortoise with a deeply blushing expression that was as priceless as it could get.

Sly turned to the security tape machine, which had several static monitors showing. He rummaged through the tape from 6 days ago, put the cassette into the deck, replacing tonight's tape back into the empty slot and pressed play. After taking a short moment to cue the deck, he set the auto-on programming to begin playing tomorrow at 09:00 am, opening time. This way, the morning staff wouldn't notice that several cameras were unplugged when the Museum opened.

From there, Sly headed back to the floor, did a quick patrol walk, eventually making his way towards the emergency-exit. Once he got there, he nudged the back door open, slipped out and pushed it shut behind himself. "Time to find a hotel," he mused to himself.

* * *

**The nocturnal raccoon had no problems sleeping** through the day. Oddly enough, he awoke to a distinctly soft knocking on his hotel door. The clock on the table read 1400 hours and the sun was high in the sky outside. Sly approached the door peeking through a peephole. It was Carmelita. He blinked rapidly and called through the door, "One minute, I need to get dressed, hold on." 

"Sly, just let me in," She replied through the door. Cooper blinked twice. Her voice was filled with a sense of urgency. He glanced down at the boxers white tank-tophe was wearing, shrugged, then unlocked the bolt. She opened the door, having heard the lock slide out of place, then stepped through, shutting it behind her. The room was pitch-black with the drapes drawn so it took a moment for her natural night vision to adjust.

"Thank heaven," She muttered.

"What?" Sly cocked his head suddenly startled when she wrapped her arms around him. He didn't know what to make of it. "What's going on, Carmelita? Is everything okay?"

"It will be now. I'm glad to see you," She mumbled into his shoulder. Sly, still rather confused by this, put his arms around her in return. She just buried herself into his chest, sobbing softly. Sly was baffled. His bemusement finally demanded an answer.

"What's wrong, Carmelita? I've never seen you like this," Sly explained. "And on top of that, you got here incredibly fast. I'm really impressed."

"None of that matters. It's nothing I can talk about," She explained in a shakey, quavering voice. It wasn't the normally strong Carmelita that Sly knew well; he'd never seen her passed her breaking limit before.

Carmelita nuzzled into his chest for a moment, adding, "Just know that things will happen the right way, now. I thought you were gone forever and it tore me apart. I never got to say thank you, good bye or even apologized for our past… I feel that I still owe you one and yet, you know me, I _never_ apologize to anyone…."

"I noticed that," Sly chuckled, reaching to pat the back of her head softly. "You don't have to thank me for the times that you were in trouble. But," Sly paused for a moment. He didn't know what she meant with the 'good bye'. "I don't think we'll ever have to say Good Bye to one another if we play our cards right."

"Yes," She said in a firm tone of agreement. She lifted her head from his chest and gazed up at him, tears streaming down the side of her muzzle. "If we play our cards right, there won't be any need for Good Bye. That's why I'm here."

"I don't understand," He prompted in an attempt to garnish an explanation.

"It's like I said, Sly. I can't tell you. You just have to trust me. The important thing is that we're going to do things the right way and you'll be safe in the end."

"No offense," Sly replied, "But you're acting really weird. I've never seen you like this, even when we tried dating." (A/N: _End of game series, Sly3_)

"Sly, about a week ago, I had a dream that you were killed in a museum. Clockwerk was the one who killed you." Carmelita spoke over Sly's nod and murmur for her to continue. She took a breath as if it was painful to talk about then said, "Let's just say that last night, I… uh, _dreamed_ that you were killed in that museum, by Clockwerk, but unlike my original dream, he tore you to pieces with his talons. When I arrived at 2145 hours, the museum was on fire and you were in the middle of the jewelry collection, dead. I dropped to my knees and sobbed and begged for it not to be true. I said_ all the things_ to you that I _wished I had said sooner_. I was _devastated_ and in a way, it's closure from that… nightmare, just standing here with you."

Sly placed his paws on her shoulders, putting a few inches of distance between them so that he could look into her terrified amber eyes. Her bottom lip was quivering and her jaw was tightly set. He could tell by looking at her that she'd not slept the night before. That's the only reason he had to question her story of it being a dream. He'd never seen her be anything less than strong and it made him feel awkward with worry.

"Carmelita, you look exhausted. Maybe you should take a nap before we strike, tonight." Sly cupped her cheeks in his paws, using his thumbs to wipe away the tears that stained her fur. "Relax, everything is fine. You're here. I'm here; Clockwerk is sitting in his mountain. Everyone is safe. It was… just a dream, like you said."

"It was pretty damn _real…_ to me, I mean," She groused, trying not to weep again. Whatever she'd seen that she couldn't talk about was really getting to her. Sly had never seen her get this emotional and it was worrying him. He reached over her shoulder and relocked the door, then guided her to the hotel bed. Carmelita sobbed softly, "You'd better not die, Sly Cooper. I've realized that the last two times we beat him, we were a team, together. You trying to take him on by yourself is suicide. This new Clockwerk is just… too powerful."

"Okay, not to worry. You're here now, right? So relax," Sly said, motioning for her to settle down on the mattress and relax. "You look exhausted."

"I'm fine," Carmelita grumped softly. "I just need to sleep this whole week off when it's all over."

"I'm down for that," Sly mused, pulling a blanket up over her. She didn't even take her shoes off. She just lay there on the mattress, looking exhausted. Sly came around the other side of the hotel room bed and sat down on it, propping up on an elbow. "I've never seen you so upset before," he said softly.

"You just don't know what I've seen in the last two weeks, Ringtail," She sighed softly, rolling over to face him. She looked dreadfully tired. "And worst of all, last night, I never got to tell you that I care about you and that you're someone special to me." Sly's eyes widened. She'd _never_ acted this way before. Whatever this was, it was obviously tearing her apart inside. She seemed completely traumatized.

"But it _was_ a dream, right?" Sly inquired thoughtfully. She looked distracted by his question then nodded in a confirming motion. "Is there something you want to tell me, Miss Fox?" Sly asked, still leaning up on his elbow.

"I suppose I never got to ask," Carmelita paused then face faulted, asking, "how you _really_ felt about me and so I realized for the first time that I was curious if all your flirting flattery was true or not."

"I realized something back when I was fighting Doctor M's monster," Sly told her, sitting up on the mattress and resting his arms across his knees, sitting up in the traditional Indian style. "I love you." It was simple and sweet. She sat up and pushed the covers off her body, turning to face him.

"Do you mean it?" she asked, almost hesitantly. Carmelita was never one to hesitate and the fact that she seemed that way in asking to verify his love was almost shocking to him. Sly replied with a blink, almost turning his head to gawk at her.

He suddenly grinned and said, "I love you. If you don't feel the same way, the Cooper family blood line is screwed, because you're the only one I want. Is that straight forward and blunt enough for ya?"

She stammered, "I … I'm just… I can't believe I'm sitting here talking to you the way I wanted to do last night. You have no idea how much this means to me. I'm a little more stubborn than you are. I didn't realize that I loved you until you were taken from me. I felt foolish for not acting sooner. I feel as though I'm acting like a damn sissy. I know I get angry but I try not to be emotional like _this_." Her eyes lowered then her head.

Being his impulsive self, Sly reached his paw beneath her chin and lifted it until their gaze locked. Then slowly, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against her own. He had no problem kissing her in Russia several years ago. He had no problem kissing her at the end of a dance at the Police Ball, during their very short courtship. He certainly had no problems kissing her now.

Their muzzles slanted, one across the other, and their first real kiss of true passion began. While they had kissed before during the short relationship in the past (A/N: _conclusion to Sly3: Honor Amongst Thieves_), it was never _this_ intense.

Her fur was soft like the petals of a flower. His touch was liquid graceful like morning dew rolling over his sandy-furred desert rose, exploring her form with loving intimacy. His whiskers brushed her face and her heart skipped a beat. Fox and Raccoon, it wasn't taboo; it was glorious.

She reached for him and let her bubbling emotions free. She clung to him and the kiss intensified. Outside the window, the northward-moving snow storm was beginning and snow quickly started to blanket the earth. She yearned for him and unlike anything she'd ever felt before, she was certain of one thing. Her heart sang. She was finding the closure she needed after her previous night of hardships.

It was something she couldn't explain to Sly. It was knowledge that, if she 'played her cards right', could eventually be forgotten. But after the thought of losing him had gripped her, she felt free to shower him with her bottled affection. It was a secret that she knew she had to scream to the world, lest she lose her chance to tell anyone, all together.

Paws freely explored one another as if for the very first time. While their relationship in the recent past was sweet, they never delved into anything quite so passionate as _this_. She touched his arms then traced her fingertips down over his torso, learning of the man she would give herself to. His masculine, sculpted chest and muscular contours caused a shiver to race down her spine.

From his athletic abilities, he was a treat for her roaming paws. Likewise, the last time Sly had been _this_ close to her was when he was climbing over her body. As he could recall, it was when she wore the Mask of Dark Earth and stood 3 stories tall (A/N: _Sly3 H.A.T._) and Sly had to retrieve it. Had the mercenary team not destroyed the mask, Sly would have gladly made Carmelita wear it again, when fighting Clockwerk. She would have easily kicked the owl right back into the dark ages.

But for now, all those thoughts were pushed aside. Feelings of love, sensuality, desire and passion were growing within them both. On this night, they made love as mates. Their words were more than just pillow talk. The sensual nature of Cooper's touch and the gracefulness of his love making took her world by storm and created such an intense adoration and devotion in her heart that she felt completely bound to him for the first time in her life.

_He_ became her rock and her anchor. He became her stability. This night changed everything. The magic between them became obvious to the both of them and their feverous ardor and the fervor they shared towards one another was all consuming. Trust was given and handled gently.

There were no candles or rose peddles. There was no quixotic music in the background. There was no roaring fireplace for hearthside romance. This was a plain as could be, in the bedroom of a hotel. And yet, it was magic. Her prosaic pugnacious personality had been quelled. Sly Cooper, the man she chased and obsessed over, had become an affectionate antidote to her once wrathful heart. She was head over heels in love. Tears of testament wet her eyes and her soul sang sweetly as she became the instrument of joy in his tender paws.

The magic was in their hearts and hands. It was in their minds and bodies. The two became one writhing entity of desire, to the tempo of the age-old rhythm of love. They moved as one, writhing sensually with and against one another. It was an act of sheer perfection, regardless of their surroundings. And at the climax of it all, Sly broke the kiss, looked down into her eyes and spoke of his true love for her.

When the conclusion of their session was upon them, they slept together, his weight a comfortable blanket upon her form. And for the next several hours, the two of them slumbered in one another's embracing arms. Carmelita dreamt deeply as if she'd not slept in forever. Her dream was partially spoken aloud and every so often, Sly woke up just enough to listen to the sound of her voice.

Her words made little sense at times. They were contradictory at times and told a story of her past week that he'd not known until now. He could only attempt piecing things together. Perhaps this was all deeper than he realized. But for now, only one thing mattered. They were together the way he wanted to be with her: happy and in love. The chase was finally over, for him and for her.

* * *

**Eight Thirty came too quickly** but Carmelita found herself incredibly well rested. The two of them shared a kiss and she nearly blushed when she realized that they were still mated, there, in the bed. A shower was called for and the plan was to be ready for this Museum job he had to do. Without the pearls, there would be no way to attack Clockwerk's volcano lair. 

Using a nuclear device would be something any country would spot. International intelligence sources would have seen a briefcase nuke from 5th avenue. Bentley's device, consisting of the uranium pearls was a different story. They could bring the machine into position, then load it with the pearls and drop the bomb right into Clockwerk's lair. It would take the cake for the biggest explosion of the gang's history. Bentley and Murray kept score of their best bomb blasts but this would be one that no one would ever forget.

Carmelita knew that Clockwerk would attack tonight and because knowledge is power, she knew that they would survive it. The museum job came on time as scheduled. At 9:30pm, Carmelita had commandeered the cleaning lady's uniform and was cleaning the box while Guard Cooper was cleaning out the pearls.

"You know, I never thought I'd be pulling a heist with you," Sly said to her.

"You have no idea how much stealing bothers me. If you weren't the Robin Hood type, I'd not have taken to you," She said, shaking her head and trying to smile. Honestly, no matter what his intentions were, jaywalking was just as much of a crime as murder.

Once more, she glanced at her watch for the millionth time, tonight. "We're using these pearls for official police business. We're not stealing them. Is that understood, _Constable Cooper_?"

Sly grinned, his eyes raking over her feminine form in the adorable maid outfit. "Absolutely clear, Inspector Fox. So, why do you keep looking at your watch, Carmelita?"

"Because he's supposed to be here," She muttered under her breath. She cleared her throat and explained, "In my… uhm, dream, you see… he attacks at 9:35. He sweeps in, crushing the roof, then grabs you in his talons. I arrive at 9:45 and I followed the sound of the screaming and his gloating voice as he flees… and I see it all happen at exactly 9:46."

"What time is it now?" Sly chuckled playfully.

"9:34 and 58 seconds." Carmelita glanced around, nervously, shutting the display door on the empty pearl case. "9:35 and 7 seconds…"

"Well, I guess dreams don't _always _come true," Sly chided playfully. "I don't see Clockwerk. I don't hear flapping wings outside. Not that the new Clockwerk would need to flap anymore. I'm sure he's got all sorts of new technology that Steven put on him. Kinda ironic that Clockwerk killed him."

Carmelita gave Sly a sour face. "Yeah; last I heard? Steven was really… Oh never mind. You'll find out soon enough," She said, shaking her head slowly. "Let's just get out of here, while we still can," She instructed. The suspended Inspector hooked a thumb over her shoulder. "This way should be best. Follow me."

The two of them crossed the museum, coming to the lobby by the main doors. It was beautiful, surrounded by glass on all sides. It was an architectural marvel, by far. A splendid glass chandelier hung above them and snow was covering the top so that the glass roof had a solid-ceiling appearance from inside. Carmelita glanced at her watch then looked up at Sly with a starry-eyed grin. "We did it."

"Got the pearls?" he asked.

"It's 9:40. No Clockwerk; we got the pearls and we're together. Everything is right in the world, Sly Cooper. We've won." She leaned up to kiss him, still wearing the cute maid outfit, consisting of a sort of ankle-length skirt. It was almost like a ball gown in a way. His guard outfit resembled a tux, complete with a cummerbund and dashing little bowtie.

Carmelita spied a turtle wheeling by in the hallway and took her paws up, side stepping to put Sly's back to the passing tortoise. She offered a smile but glanced over his shoulder for a moment to make sure the vision of rolling green was gone. Sly glanced over his shoulder for a moment but saw nothing behind himself.

Sly took her paws into his and began to sway about. There they were, in disguises. Her hair was put up differently and she was wearing contacts so as not to be identified as an Interpol agent by the head of security. For some reason, something felt oddly familiar about this moment, to her. She allowed for him to give her a twirl and smiled softly as they shared a dance of victory, there in the museum lobby.

"You just love me because this is the second time I've romanced you with a dance," Sly joked playfully. She placed her head into the crook of his neck; the perfect place on the perfect crook. She nuzzled her face into his body and muttered under her breath.

"You're a real bastard, Sly Cooper," She joked back, her words muffled against his neck.

"You're quite an arresting young lady, Carmelita Fox," Sly chided, kissing the top of her head. She giggled softly and Sly blinked, looking down at her. She grinned up at him and that's when he realized that she'd handcuffed them together. "Now _that's_ kinky," Sly chuckled, seeing their wrists attached. "You realize you're going to have to let me go, right?"

"Not necessarily," Carmelita said with a smirk. Regardless of enjoying herself with him, there was something oddly familiar about this entire moment and she couldn't quite place a furry digit upon it. It all seemed so familiar and perhaps being overtired was the reason she couldn't quite pinpoint why this was so very recognizable. "Sly? Are you having a feeling of déjà vu?"

"Other than the dance we shared in front of Rejan?" Sly mused thoughtfully. "Are you falling in love with me again for the very first time, Carmelita?" He was trying to play this off with a relaxed sort of humor. His comforting smile gave her confidence. It was approximately 9:45 and nothing had happened. She was able to focus on him and ignore her watch for once this evening. So far, a full ten minutes passed with no sign of Clockwerk. Her smile brightened and her worries melted away into a grin of victory.

"You really should let me go, it's hard to dance when I'm shackled," Sly chuckled.

"Really? I think it's quite a becoming style on you. Ah well. I have no power to arrest you anyhow," She said with a shrug, rolling her shoulders forward. "But I've got you just where I want you now. These could become quite fun back at the hotel before we hook up with Bentley and the gang. You know?" She gave a teasing grin. She, being as inexperienced in romance as he was, had no idea what to do with handcuffs. No idea, beyond sitting down and playing "cops and robbers" and chase him around the bedroom. The thought made her giggle.

"Okay, cutie. Very funny. Now, where's the key?" The raccoon licked his lips with a touch of apprehension.

"Key? I don't have it, Sly." Her eyes told him that she was completely honest, this time. There was no key on her; it was in the bottom of her other shoes, back at the hotel with her regular clothes. They'd have to go back and get it, later. Sly couldn't help but chuckle. It was an adorable irony. Still, Carmelita couldn't shake the nagging sensation of having done all of this before in some measure.

Some things felt different, fresh and new but all in all, she felt as though this had all happened before. "I really do feel like we've done this before. Perhaps we should cut the rug on the train, heading back towards Prague. There's a lot going on there and I didn't want to worry you. We could use your help; Clockwerk can wait. We'll go after him as a group."

"Are you sure?" Sly asked, tilting his head. "What about the tank and everything else?"

Carmelita was beginning to grow more adamant. It was as if she'd just remembered something, now that they had achieved success in taking the Pearls from the display case. "Sly, trust me. We should head back to Prague. Something tells me they'll need our help before we can get theirs. Let's go; we got what we came for, let's just leave."

"All right, I suppose we can save our next dance for the 18 hour bullet train," Sly said with a hint of promise. He tugged her close for a moment, hugging her to him. Her eyes lifted to look at his face but she noticed his ears flicker first. Hers followed suit and she couldn't help but blink. Something subtle, yet ominous was in the air. Her eyes began to widen once she realized where the sensation of déjà vu had originated from… She dreamed a variation of this scene a week ago. (A/N: _Remember Chapter 1?_)

Her head began to lift, just in time to see the glass above them beginning to crack. Carmelita's lips parted and a single word was breathed out simultaneous to her heart stopping for an instant. Her eyes reflected the crystal chandelier above. The word went unheard over the ambient sound of cracking glass. "…no." It was an unheard plea.

And in that moment, she remembered where this odd sensation of familiarity came from. It was a near perfect recreation of her first dream that started this entire episode. The disguises. The dance. The passing tortoise in the wheelchair. The museum and the glass chandelier. Burying her face into the crook of his neck and calling him a bastard; the handcuffs, all of it. It didn't happen like her dream, note for note, but the tune was the same.

Her arm was forced upwards. Sly lifted his arm to protect her and the handcuffs forced hers to lift as well. Shards of glass rained from above and she was nestled safely against his chest, protected beneath his powerful, athletic limb to which she was bound.

"No, baby, please," She whispered. The glass fell around them, glinting in the reflection of the lobby lighting. It was beautiful if only for an instant. The refracted light that glistened like glitter was raining around them with plump little flakes of snow. Sly's eyes lifted and widened. She glanced up as well, seeing a reflection in his eyes that would be etched into her brain forever.

The spiraling chandelier toppled from above. It was coming for her. It was going to crush her. Her gaze lifted further and her dilated eyes shrunk to pinholes as the shadow grew above her. Suddenly her body was jerked back and she panicked. She knew what this meant. She remembered _this_ part. She put her paws against his chest with the intent to protest but it was too late.

Sly dove forward, knocking her to the floor. Their arms were still linked at the wrist and his body fell upon her. It was a comforting blanket of his weight, like back in the hotel, earlier tonight. It felt so right and yet everything was so wrong. Her mind was spinning. Her emotions were about to come crashing down. Their bodies connected with the floor and the moment, while slow, seemed to crawl to a near stop.

Tiny glass shards tinkled softly against the ground all around them. Her heart, seeming to have been at a complete stop only a fraction of a second ago, was now pounding out of control. Sly Cooper's eyes met with her own. His jaw dropped and his eyes went distant. Something was distracting him from affording her an affectionate gaze, what could it be? Her mind was spiraling about, trying to take the moment in and grasp it.

Sly's free paw gained purchase on her un-cuffed wrist. His grip was firm and yet there was a measure of desperation in his touch. Immediately following the fraction of silent time was the loudest noise she'd ever heard in her life. The crystal chandelier crushed him, above her. It tore through his back, eviscerating the man she had come to love so very dearly. Gazing over the raccoon's shoulder, she saw the silhouette of Clockwerk.

The weight crushed them both. Clockwerk's form grew from above. Carmelita's eyes flitted back to her savior and protector. His own soft orbs were milky and hazed as death began to claim him. Her heart was exploding into a thousand pieces all impaled with pangs of pain as sharp as the glass that took her beloved Sly Cooper away…

His voice was the faintest, weakest cry for help. All that he could manage to say became a heart wrenching statement that traumatized her mind. "I'm… so cold," He wheezed softly. From above, Clockwerk descended upon them, his talons bared. Suddenly Sly Cooper became a great deal lighter. The chandelier was plucked from his back and thrown across the room, shattering the front door into a thousand fragments. She begged for this to be a nightmare; she begged herself to wake up.

Suddenly a scythe-like talon pierced Sly's back. It erupted from his stomach and was driven through Carmelita's heart. The Inspector's eyes widened like saucers. Her paws gripped at Sly's arms as tightly as possible. She was beginning to die and it was real this time. A voice was heard from nearby and it sounded oddly like the vixen's own.

"Cooper!" Carmelita's head lulled back, her muscles giving out and her will failing her. She struggled to squint through the encroaching darkness that blurred her vision. Another Carmelita Fox began to approach. Was she having an outer-body experience? She couldn't be sure. But there she was, standing in front of a dead Sly Cooper and a dying Carmelita Montoya Fox, upon the floor.

Clockwerk, perched upon the two bodies on the ground, attempted to rotate his head. The owl looked at a standing Carmelita, his head completely inverted. It took a few moments to compute the paradox of seeing two Carmelita Fox's in the room. The dying vixen on the floor called out with her last breath.

"Go back further; stop him before he's finished! It's the only way…!" With that, Carmelita was dead. She lay beneath Sly Cooper in a shallow grave of glass fragments. She was gone. The uncomprehending Inspector Fox who stood a few feet from the doorway began to back away from the horrific sight of Sly Cooper and a woman who appeared to look like herself, dead beneath the razor sharp talons of Clockwerk.

"…Ringtail?" She muttered softly. Suddenly, rage boiled over and her shock pistol was lifted, pointing it directly at Clockwerk. She opened fire; the first shot struck Clockwerk directly between the eyes. The owl rotated his head and lifted his giant wings. The glass on the floor was fanned away, blown towards the walls on either side of the room as he lifted upwards. His talon was disengaged from the lifeless bodies of a man appearing to be Sly Cooper and a woman who was handcuffed to him, appearing to be Carmelita Fox.

The Inspector took several more shots at the departing bird, but he was long gone by the time her shock-cell was dry. The battery automatically ejected, clattering to the ground. Carmelita squeezed the trigger two more times but the familiar bucking weapon had grown silent. She was afraid to lower her gaze; afraid to see what she thought might be at her feet. She was afraid to face the truth but she knew she had to.

Slowly, her head dipped, taking in the gruesome scene of double homicide. There was absolutely _no way_ the women beneath Sly could be her. She clinched her paws tightly, trying to hold herself together. There had to be an explanation. Was the woman a clone of Carmelita? Slowly, the Inspector knelt in the glass rubble, fishing out the dead woman's wallet.

She then fished her own wallet out and inspected them, trying to keep her gaze averted from the two bodies on the floor. Tears were nearly blinding her and she was fighting for her breath. Emotions ran wild and her heart was beating out of control. A tear fell from her snout, landing on her own wallet, staining a paper business card with her name on it… but then something strange happened.

Where that tear had fallen on her own business card, nestled inside of her wallet, the doppelganger wallet reflected it. A dried circular mark appeared in the same place on the other wallet's business card. Carmelita shook her head, trying to regain her senses; she was a cop first, she had to put her training first. If she couldn't solve this mystery, she might wind up no better than the couple on the floor. Were they just clones maybe?

She couldn't be sure. Inspector Fox thumbed the business card from the wallet that had come from her own pocket. She then bent a corner of the paper card, creating a crease in the paper. She replaced the card then turned her attention to the wallet which came from the pocket of the dead vulpine body splayed across the floor. It only took a second or two, but the crease began to appear until it was fully visible.

Fox paused, trying to think this through. Her eyes were still moist, making it difficult to see. She tried to recall the last thing said to her. Something about going back _further_ and stopping "him" before he's "finished." And finally, something was mentioned about this 'being the only way.'

"It failed!" A voice cried from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing Bentley in his wheelchair. Wasn't he wearing bionic legs last time she saw him? For that matter, wasn't he supposed to be in Prague, a full day's travel from here?

"We were too late!" Bentley cried. "Now you both die and I'm all that's left. You have to get to Prague; you must hurry!"

"What's going on?" Carmelita sobbed, throwing the other wallet to the floor and clinching her own. "What the hell is happening here? Who is this woman on the floor? Is she a clone of me? How the hell did you get here, you were in Prague!"

Before Bentley could explain, his body began to grow transparent. Carmelita blinked in shock, shaking her head rapidly. "Where in the hell are you going?" She demanded but the image of Bentley faded until it was gone.

"What happens?" She snapped, narrowing her eyes. "How do I know that you're not a clone, like they're making of Sly!" There was no answer. Her eyes returned to Cooper's body and the vulpine beneath was beginning to fade away as well. She blinked rapidly, growing frustrated from the confusion. Was it a vision? Was she hallucinating?

Sly was now laying flat on the floor, without anyone beneath him. He was dead, alone. She cradled his head in her lap, sobbing softly. "I never got to tell him that I thought of him as more than just a criminal."

The wind howled from the hole in the ceiling above her. Carmelita simply ignored it, holding Sly's lifeless head in her arms. She whimpered softly, blocking the rest of the world out. Guards from other parts of the museum came out from the woodwork, gathering around her, having heard the massive sound of Clockwerk's attack.

The vixen wasn't responsive. She cupped Sly's face in her paws and leaned in to softly kiss his cold, lifeless lips. It was then that the realization of his death hit her like a ton of bricks. A guttural wail of mourning erupted from her throat and she clung to his head, holding his upper body across her lap. Hot tears fell from her face, soaking his fur, matted down in dry sweat and blood. As the minutes raced on, her sobbing became uncontrollable. She begged and pleaded for it not to be true and yet it was.

Sly Cooper was dead. The statement of the other woman, who was no longer here in corporal form, was running through her mind like a bullet with no direction. She had to "go back _further_?" She had to "stop _him_ from being _finished_? It was the _only _way"? It was confusing. This traumatic moment would be forever emblazoned in her mind. Scalding tears were offered in mourning to the man she loved and never told.

"I'm so sorry, I never trusted you. I'm so sorry I never told you how much I loved you. I'm so sorry, please don't be gone," She murmured softly. One of the guards wanted to ask what was going on here but it was obvious that she was devastated. Her Interpol badge told them everything and so no one spoke yet. Silence battled with the howl of the wind from above and snow fell upon her and upon Sly Cooper's motionless body.

After several moments to gather herself, she put a finger to her ear and used her Interpol communicator to patch a channel in to Bentley's Binoc-u-com. Once he answered, she immediately broke down again. "Sly is dead! He was killed by Clockwerk; he's dead, Bentley, he's gone!"

Bentley looked exasperated on the other end of the channel. "What!" He cried, tearing his glasses from his eyes. "He can't be!"

"He's dead, Clockwerk impaled him with his talons! Bentley, what do we do!" She shouted, losing her composure completely. "He's dead! Do you hear me, he's gone!" She wailed. "I never said goodbye to him! I never kissed him the way I wanted to kiss him or hold him or shared one last dance with him. He meant so much to me; he was more than some obsession!" She shouted, defending herself over past accusations put upon her by old coworkers. They were all meaningless now. Her love for Sly would never be fulfilled and she mourned the loss as much as she mourned his death. His death was the birth of a new feeling in her heart… one of being hopelessly incomplete.

"Carmelita, I," Bentley was immediately cut off.

"I don't understand what's going on! I'm hallucinating; I'm scared and I couldn't save him the way he saved me! This is a nightmare, wake me up from it!" She demanded, breaking into sobs again.

"Carmelita!" Bentley cried over the communications patch. "This isn't a dream, we're under attack from The Sire's Interpol units. We've taken up hiding beneath the streets of Prague until we can mount a return attack on the castle. Please come back and help us. Bring those pearls, without them we're all going to die! Please, you have to hurry. Every hour counts. I love Sly like a brother, trust me when I tell you that I'm taking this very hard, but if you don't hurry, we're all going to die under Clockwerk's talons!" He closed the communications patch immediately, unable to keep a straight face anymore. He had to sob and it required private time. Now she was alone with the Museum guards and Sly's lifeless body.

She couldn't explain the vision of herself and the vision of Bentley in the wheelchair moments prior. She only knew that she needed to cry. She'd only cried twice in her entire life before this moment. The first time was when her mother passed away as a child and the second time was when she graduated from the police training academy, because of how proud she felt, standing besides her father.

She wondered if he would frown upon her from his retirement cottage on the French Riviera, for sobbing over the body of a Criminal. But something the old man wouldn't understand was that she was in love. He chased after Sly's father and had a passionate grudge against the Cooper thieves. How could his proud little daughter be in love with the son of a scoundrel?

She always tried to apprehend Sly Cooper to make her father proud. That was the beginning of her obsession. In the end, she was denying her love for him and while they enjoyed a short-lived relationship after that moment on Kaine Island in the south Pacific, it was never a fully bloomed romance. But in all that time of trying to appease her family and her heritage as a fourth generation cop, she failed to placate her heart first.

She had denied her love for him. And now he was gone and she'd lost the chance. Things could have been so incredibly different if she'd not been so very stubborn. She leaned over Cooper's dead body and clung to him. Her tears drenched his dress shirt, staining it directly above the tattered blood stains where the talon had pierced his midsection.

Suddenly her jaw dropped. She came to the sudden realization that if Sly's body was put into a morgue, Steven would locate it and use his mind to put the Master Thief's abilities into the clone, "Slick Cooper." She knew she had to keep Sly's body out of Steven and Sire's reach at all costs. She had to hide his body and come back for it when all of this blows over. She had to. She was overly protective of him, even in his posthumous state.

* * *

**The bullet train back to Prague** had her in a tearfully reflective mood. She recalled the times he'd saved her life and the times they had shared together. She reflected on the past week and what he said to her in the window before heading off to fight, approximately 40 hours ago. She demanded that he tell her that he loved her and he promised he would say it if he made it back. Now he was gone. She had 18 solid hours to weep. She couldn't sleep at all. She was emotionally and physically exhausted and her body ached all over. She felt as though she didn't have any more tears to cry. 

Her chest ached horribly from her broken heart. The world seemed to be crumbling about her and colors seemed less dull in her life. Once she arrived at Prague, she headed for a cab. It was nearing 5pm in the afternoon. Her wristwatch read 16:48 hours and the snow had stopped falling, in the Czech Republic. The ground was covered and throughout the city, salt trucks were driving through the freshly plowed streets, getting the town ready for another snow storm expected later that night.

She hailed a cab and took it across town to meet the guys at the waypoint. Every time she started nodding off in the cab, an image of Sly's grisly mosaic splashed across the museum floor was there to fill the darkness. Her eyes were quick to flutter open, wide and yet swollen from the night of tears.

Once she'd arrived, she stepped out of the cab, dropped a few francs more than the price of travel into the passenger seat and left the cab. She was pretty sure that the cab driver would complain because he'd have to have the money converted at the local bank but once he realized that it was a quality tip, he probably wouldn't mind so very much. It didn't matter; she didn't care about _any_thing right now.

The manhole cover in a sidewalk was pried off and she began to descend the metal rung ladder. Steam rose from the sewers due to the subterranean heat generated in order to keep the gutter cesspool from freezing during the winter. She trudged along for several moments in the empty tunnel, occasionally passing through parts that had water only a few inches deep.

The snow would melt in the next few weeks and the sewers would get backed up with the runoff but that was still quite a while away. She had the pearls in her pocket and she walked with a heavy heart that was reflected by her dreary step. Something was bothering her about all of this. Why did she see herself in a maid outfit and why did she see a vision of Bentley in his wheelchair? Why did they disappear? Was her tired mind playing tricks on her? She couldn't fathom the confusion of it all.

Something up ahead caught her attention. She came to the corner of an intersection and peered into the next passage. The echo of heavy footfalls could be heard, approaching from nearby. Carmelita quickly flipped the proper channel open on her communicator but all she got was static. She wasn't sure if she had limited reception due to being underground or if Bentley was unable to respond.

Just to be safe, Carmelita located a small drainage hole in the wall just large enough for her to crawl into. She shimmied up the side and slipped her legs into it, then she wiggled down into the drain and hid in silence. Her instincts were still strong and her training was still with her. A moment later, something came by.

The metallic offensive attack suit paused where she could see who was inside of it. A skunk sat within its confines. Several smoking barrels, located on his shoulders, were still hot from recent use. Her stomach iced over and her heart sank further. Would she be alone on this? She wasn't sure, just yet. Once he passed, she climbed out of the tube and began to sprint in the direction from which Steven had come. At the end of the tunnel, the area opened up and Carmelita froze in shock and fear.

A metallic attack suit was in pieces on the ground. Bentley was laying face down on the concrete, his bionic leg attachments were mangled up, on the ground. They appeared to be useless and torn into scrap. Penelope lay motionless in his arms and Murray was on his back nearby, not breathing. Gleaming rubies rested upon the hippo's chest, staining his favorite blue shirt in a scarlet splotch. A crimson puddle surrounded him. He was obviously gone.

Penelope was dead as well. Bentley was approached and Carmelita knelt down besides him. He lifted his head slowly, tears running down the side of his face. "We're too late. They launched a preemptive strike. We weren't prepared," He panted softly. "And because I wasn't ready, I lost Penelope. She's gone, Miss Fox. I love her so much and she's gone."

Carmelita tried to cry with him but she felt as though her swollen, puffy eyes had nothing more to offer. She was nearly dehydrated from crying all night and morning on the train. The sullen vixen picked up his glasses from the ground and dusted them off against her shirt. She reached forward and placed them upon his beak-like nose. His wheelchair was folded up in the back corner. She approached it and brought it back to him.

But for now, he lay there besides the fallen Penelope. Bentley was just beginning to go through what Inspector Fox had experienced last night with Sly's body being laid out across the floor of a Museum in Moscow, Russia. She couldn't even find her voice to offer an apology for his losses: Carmelita remained silent.

The tortoise was on the brink of a major emotional breakdown. "She's gone, Sly's gone. Murray is gone, Clockwerk is back and they're going to send the clone of Sly out to hunt down the Thievious Raccoonus or to find Sly's body and link their brains. It's all over. If what you've seen and heard from that demon was right, the end of the world could very well be upon us and we're powerless to stop it."

Carmelita, finally finding her voice, asked in broken tones that reflected her long night of crying and sore throat, "What does it mean to go back _further_, before _he_ is finished? And… is it _the only way_?"

Bentley lifted his head from where he lay on the ground. His eyes bore up into Carmelita's gaze, blinking rapidly through the glasses that she'd retrieved for him. He pushed himself up and grabbed the wheelchair, using his arms to pull himself up into the seat. "Penelope and I built a Temporal Chronometer Transportation unit, after we finished the new Cooper Vault," Bentley said weakly. Tone was returning to his voice however, as if hope had somehow been restored. "We have to get to Paris and you have to come with me."

"I don't understand. What is going on?" Carmelita snapped, narrowing those swollen eyes to the point where she was hardly able to see.

"We built… we built a time machine (A/N: _Mentioned at the end of Sly3_) and I didn't realize it until now but… it's our only hope to stop this from happening. We can go back in time to yesterday and you can help Sly and I can warn you, so that you and Sly come back and help us fight off this attack then we can storm their castle."

"No," Carmelita said, shaking her head slowly. "I thought they were hallucinations because they just faded away but when Sly died, I was dead too and I saw myself… and you. And the other Carmelita had been killed. Her dying words were to "Go back Further; it's the only way." Yesterday is too soon. If you really _do_ have a time machine, we have to go back and defeat Clockwerk before he's finished. He's too powerful to fight. Sly, Penelope and Murray shouldn't have to die needlessly. We have to go back and stop this all from happening. Doing this is the only way to ensure that they STAY ALIVE. I'll escort you back to Paris; we'll requisition a small plane and annex any gear we'll need before attempting this… time portal machine that you built. We have to hurry."

"We have to go back and keep Steven from attacking us and killing my Penelope," Bentley said, looking exhausted. "How far back do you think we should go?"

"A few days," Carmelita replied. "We'll all be in Prague and we can ensure that Clockwerk is never finished and the clone of Steven is used to lure the real Steven out of hiding. Then we'll defeat them both. We'll plan this out ahead of time; knowledge is power. We'll be able to defeat The Reaper, Steven and his Clone, Karla Chintzy and disassemble Clockwerk, all before they can get themselves ready. But it's only the two of us. How will we beat them?"

Bentley shrugged. "We'll have to manipulate the situation and cause our other halves, as well as Sly and the gang, to come together and strike at the right times in the right places, without creating a further paradox. We'll do it without crossing paths with them, _if possible_ at least."

"You're sure you can go back and keep all of this from happening?" Carmelita asked. She was half-ready to believe anything after seeing Bentley and herself in that room with Sly's body, last night.

"Help me get back to Paris as quickly as possible, Inspector Fox. We'll keep all of this from ever happening. The thing is… we have to be very careful about what happens. Shaping the future is very dangerous. The outcome can jeopardize our very existence. We can only do what we're going back to do then hope that everything fixes itself from there."

"Then let's get this done," Carmelita said, still feeling numb inside but starting to grow faith from the hope that Bentley was portraying. It was obvious that the turtle really believed in his time machine. Just seeing him snap out of his depression was enough to help her begin to shake off her own for the moment. If there was any chance to keep Sly from being killed, Carmelita vowed to take that chance. Even better, his proposal would save the whole team if it worked. Every action had a reaction, every choice had a consequence. They just had to go back and hope to make the right ones so that nobody dies. She had to have faith that they wouldn't screw up and have this plan backfire. If they weren't careful, they could get everyone killed including themselves. They just had to plan carefully and pray it worked.

* * *

A/N: _Okay, this may be hard to follow for some … and just incase it is, I'll give you the short version of what in blue-blazes just happened… Also, because I know a few of the readers that are following this story have NEVER even played Sly Cooper games (let alone even KNOW what the characters LOOK like), I made a few more Author's Notes than usual in this chapter... I know they're annoying and you won't see'em very much but this chapter sorta need'em because I've just discovered about a handful of readers that are only here, reading, because of the story, not because of Sly Cooper :) Maybe they'll slide into the game series the way I did and enjoy it as much as I have. Who knows:D So... here's what just happened as a super-short re-cap for those that didn't follow well:_

_Ahem... Sly, in chapter 17, is in a disguise to steal the pearls from a museum. By a window, he sees a flash of light and then he sees Bentley and Carmelita race through the streets, but the turtle is in his wheelchair, when we all know that Bentley was using bionic legs since the middle of this story. Why? Because he was coming from the future, after the attack, when his metal legs were trashed by Steven in combat._

_Chapter 18 begins with Sly doing the heist and finding out that he has to wait until the next night for a time-release lock on the display case… he does so. Bentley says "I'll send Carmelita to help you out, so you don't wind up injured like Murray was, here in Prague." It takes a day of travel to get there and yet, the next afternoon, Carmelita shows up at his door and he's surprised. But what he doesn't realize is… it's Carmelita from the future who JUST saw Sly get murdered by Clockwerk. They do the heist together despite her hatred of crime, calling it "Official Police Commandeering of Equipment"… they do the job together and Clockwerk takes longer to attack because now that there are two people to attack, he is simply processing a plan of attack and takes a few extra minutes to strike. Carmelita's plan to save Sly backfires, they both die. Present-day Carmelita walks in through the door on Cue and her future doppelganger says "GO BACK FURTHER" and of course, Carmelita doesn't know what that means until she learns that Bentley has a Time Machine. _

_Now Bentley and Carmelita, the only ones left alive, have to go back in time before ANY of this happened, stop Clockwerk BEFORE he's built, which was the original plan but they couldn't manage it… well, now maybe they will. Will Clockwerk survive? Will Bentley and Carmelita change the course of history to better save the gang's lives? Find out all of this… and more… in the next chapter! YAY! Btw, sorry this chapter was so long... 12,000+ words... niiice. :) _


	19. Different Set Of Consequences

A/N: _I'll be honest… I figured the last chapter would receive more reviews because it was over the top. I expected a lot of hateful ones. I didn't get them; it's not that I'm disappointed, just surprised. XD … btw has anyone seen Mishie? Canada must have eaten that writer. :-O_

_However, the chapter was popular enough to have 56 hits in just a few hours of putting it up and I've also broken 5000 hits after posting Chapter 18 and now, I'm at the verge of 6000 hits… so THANK YOU! For those that were confused, I'm going to detail what just happened in this chapter because Carmelita and Bentley are going to reflect on it, piece everything together until THEY can understand it… I wanted the last two chapters to be a LITTLE confusing because I want readers to identify with a confused character that's on the verge of screaming "WHY?"_

_This particular Chapter is going to help people piece together what they just read in the last chapter… and I didn't want to release this chapter until I was on the verge of being finished with Chapter 20. Which… I now am. :D_

_Everything you thought you knew about that chapter is about to change because our heroes are going back in time to re-write history several days in the past. THANK YOU FOR STICKING WITH THIS STORY! Like I said, I wanted to go OVER THE TOP… I know some people are going "are you kidding me? A clone of Sly? How stupid." But I want to make him a realistic and detestable enough character to have substance…_

_Also, what kind of repercussions does one face for breaking the barrier of time? Who is directly involved and are there any super naturals that have the same ability naturally? Let's find out! Here we go._

* * *

Chapter 19: "A different set of consequences…"

**Carmelita felt terrible** and yet, in a sense of the word, she felt _numb_. She'd commandeered a leer jet without doing anything more than flashing a badge that was suspended. It was a souvenir piece of metal, at that. She thought about going back before her suspension and stopping these super-naturals before they could suspend her but Bentley warned that taking a legal fight to those freaks in Prague was dangerous without having the team already there. He also reminded her that they suspended her to keep her from causing them trouble; if she went active against them prior to a suspension, they would have done far worse. The best bet for success was to go back only one week.

Bentley had to sit down and figure out when Sly was abducted and what time Carmelita arrived on the scene. They wanted to arrive right before Bentley's doppelganger shows up with Penelope in the beat up pickup truck. Timing would prove to be crucial leading all the way up to arriving in Prague. Inspector Fox surmised that a public plane flight would be the best way to travel. For now, they took the 'borrowed' Leer Jet west, towards Paris.

Bentley placed a hand on her shoulder watching her fly the plane with much the same ease as she piloted the chopper when she and Sly took down Clock-La, years ago. "Think of it this way," Bentley told her. "We're changing time so you'll never actually be stealing this plane and everything will be happening differently. There's no reason to feel guilty."

Carmelita paused then finally replied with a simple, "Thanks." She thought better on offering a flat, rude reply and so she added, "I'm not a thief. I'm a _good_ cop." After another moment of silence, she reached forward and touched the autopilot engage switch. She punched in some coordinates then pressed the button again, causing it to go from flashing to a solid-lit illumination. Intentionally changing the subject, the Latina face-faulted then asked, "What happened back at the Museum? I thought Sly _had_ backup?"

Someone other than Bentley replied. "There was no way to stop the ceiling from collapsing," Came the voice from behind them. Carmelita narrowed her eyes but remained silent. Donovan Loupe stepped from a shadow cast on the floor by Bentley's wheelchair shadow. He folded his arms, slumping into the Co-Pilot seat. His fur had fallen out in patches, showing his aggravated injuries and flesh that had bubbled up from beneath his shirt, over his neck and the bottom of his jaw. He looked awful and it was obvious that a man of shade was clearly vulnerable to fire attacks. Also, this is the first time since attacking him with the shotgun that he wore something light and less than constricting.

Loupe shook his head, appearing as though it was _twice_ as painful for him to be making an excuse. Regardless, he had to tell them what happened. "Once the shadow surrounded you …when the chandelier was falling through the air, it was too late," He explained. "I'm too injured to have stopped it from happening. If I hadn't been shot with an incendiary round, I may have had the ability to stop it in mid air, however it's not your liability; there's no way we could have known that my injury would lead to this moment. All we know is that I tried to use that shadow to throw the chandelier and I was powerless to move it in this condition. Racked with guilt, I stayed in the darkness and watched the unfortunate turn of events unfold."

Carmelita clinched her paw. "So you're saying this is my entire fault? I inadvertently killed Sly and supposedly myself by plugging you in that back alley?" She stood up from the pilot seat and began to walk out of the cockpit. "I need some space. Let me know when we're within 100 miles from Paris, the Auto-Pilot will do the rest." She simply stormed into the cabin, leaving Bentley alone with the injured wolf.

"You _must_ realize how awkward this is, sitting here with you," Bentley simply stated. "But I'll be quite to the point: What we're about to embark on has not been tested and it has not been done. Carmelita claims to have seen herself killed with Sly so it's possible that we could screw this up and get ourselves into trouble. Time Travel is foolish, risky; it's dangerous and changing the course of time could alter history in a way that's beyond comprehension, theoretically."

"Then why build such a machine…? Why build something capable of ruining the past?" Donovan growled softly.

"To know the _future_," Bentley said, shaking his head. "At any rate, you were there… was that really the future Carmelita with Sly that night?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact it was, from what I could gather. She came straight to his apartment, filled with grief. Then, she healed her heart in a way that was most inappropriate." Donovan could see the naïve confusion in Bentley's facial expressions. He shook his head then added, "They made love. What I cannot fathom is why I wasn't warned this would happen in the past so that we could have utilized my help to avoid this, already."

"Perhaps it was… I mean, maybe we just…" Bentley sighed. He didn't have an answer. At least not at first… He gave the situation some thought then tapped his lower lip. The tortoise was too afraid to close his eyes and think because he knew if he did, he would see Penelope taken from him again. Tonight, he preferred to think with his eyes wide open. Finally the tortoise just… sort of… shrugged. "Maybe this turn of events caused her to think about seeking you out, this time. I don't know; this whole situation is a bit out there. I don't know why we didn't ask your help in the first time loop, where Carmelita ends up …getting… killed… with Sly."

"I do not comprehend," Donovan muttered.

Bentley ran his fingers over the keyboard on the front of his wheelchair. He'd been so used to having legs again, even bionic ones, that he was beginning to hate sitting all over again. "First time, Carmelita saw only Sly die. Somehow, you were unable to help him. She went back in time and had one thing on her mind: Stop Clockwerk from killing Sly. Her thoughts never turned to you because she was too focused on that one occurrence. This most recent loop of events caused her to be killed as well and the Carmelita from the Present showed up just in time to witness herself, her future self die with Sly. This gave her such a pause for reflection that she thought of more angles than the last loop and this time, she thought to mention that, '_Hey! Sly should have already had help on scene_.' When you heard her mention you, it was your cue to appear, yes?"

"Perhaps that is so," Loupe agreed. "I had no plans to show my face out of shame for my inability to help. I planned to stay quiet until just a moment ago, when I felt the need to defend myself, having heard my name mentioned. For that shame, I apologize. I realize that such shame may have caused me to stay silent in the last… loop… and _that_ caused two deaths. Shame is inexcusable and accepting faults is part of being a better person. I hope being humbled helps in some way. May I inquire something of you?"

"Go ahead," Bentley said off handedly.

"If you've built a machine capable of going into the future, why didn't you know that all of this would happen?" The wolf asked.

The turtle lowered his eyes, reaching to take his glasses off and squint at the now-blurry cockpit floor. "I only tested it out by exploring the very near future then the very distant future, when our names were all but forgotten. I never thought to sit down and research the history books of the future and I never had the time to test this machine by going only a few years into the future or anything like that. Funny huh? I had a time machine and yet never found the time to give it a solid trial. I simply tested the machine and never got the chance to peer into the future of my gang's lineage. A great deal of things could have helped to stop this from happening. But for the first time, we'll be using it to re-write history. It's dangerous but… Well, I suppose it chalks up to being selfish."

"This time travel will teach us all a valuable lesson," Donovan concluded finally.

"What's that?"

Loupe glanced back to Bentley and offered a very thin smile. He finally replied with, "We've all learned humility and that we're not as immortal as we had all hoped. Now we'll be able to save ourselves and impart that information on to them without risk of harm."

"This could go very wrong," Bentley warned with a soft, reverent tone. One could only know to have respect for something as powerful as time itself. "Temporal and sequential changes have the ability to become the undoing of us all. If we fail, we may not have the ability to go back in time and change things or warn ourselves of doing things differently. Worst of all, we stand the chance of making poor decisions that get us killed in both loops and all of this would end in a flash. A chronological paradox can be very dangerous."

"We face a different set of challenges," Loupe mused.

"We face a different set of consequences," Bentley added. The two of them grew silent. Finally, Donovan stood up and left the cockpit. Bentley watched him depart but remained in the front of the leer jet, trying to plan out how to begin their mission once they enter the past, later on.

Donovan Loupe stepped into the passenger cabin, approaching Carmelita slowly. "Miss Fox, you have the ability to save your future with Sly Cooper. You have the power to secure your love for him."

"Who said I love him?" She snapped, narrowing her eyes. Donovan sighed, coming to take a seat in one of the posh corporate style chairs near a window. She turned to face him, folding her arms across her chest. "I'm serious, who says I love him? This is a sense of duty and the ability to stop these fiends from ruining my career and my life."

"No, you love him. You told him so, the night you both died. You're not doing things over the same way but if you had, you would go back in time, see him in the mid afternoon at his hotel and the two of you would consecrate your intimacy and passionate feelings for one another. Then you would go to the Museum and you both perish. Now you're not going back one night but instead, one week. But you still love him enough for that romance to happen, if you 'play your cards right'."

"You're being absurd, I'm serious," Carmelita said, lowering her ears. She was leaning towards an emotional relapse and Donovan knew he had to tread carefully when she was so fragile-hearted at this point of time.

Loupe shook his head, placing his padded palms upon the cushy arm rests. "Please, knowledge is power and I want you to know what would have happened if you and Bentley went back one day. If you refuse to listen, that is one thing but if you wish to know, I'll tell you."

"Make it short and quick, I don't have the stomach for this right now. It's too fresh," She said. For the first time, she found that she wasn't in the mood to hear the facts. Of all her years as an inspector, someone was willing to give her the story she was missing and she simply didn't want to hear it right now.

"You went back one night and arrived at Sly Cooper's hotel shortly after noon," He began, lowering his eyes for a moment before lifting them to set his gaze upon her. "The two of you talk, make love and reengage your romance. You go to the museum together and Clockwerk apparently changes his attack plan, as he _is_ a super computer who analyzes every factor… and because the pieces were set upon the board differently, he reacted differently. It's all chess to him."

Carmelita lifted her paws, "Wait, what? Make love?" She blinked rapidly. "How do you know?"

Donovan simply confessed everything. He lowered his head then told her, "I was watching over him, remember? Shadows. I don't mean for that knowledge to make you uncomfortable but now you know. Everyone wound up dead except for the future Bentley. As you arrived, in time to see Sly and your future death, _you_ told _yourself_ to go back **_further_**. That altered the course of history and changed the loop. You saw Bentley disappear? Bentley disappeared because it would become fate that he never goes back a mere 24 hours. Your future body disappears. You collapse at Sly's side. Change begins but the real change will begin with actions that we are about to take."

"Do you realize how confusing this is?" She snapped in rebuttal. "Please, just leave me be for the remainder of this trip. You're not invited to travel through time, three people increases the chances of someone screwing things up. You're useless to us until we go back and I stop myself from harming you."

The lupine nodded to her words. He paused then replied, telling her, "If you kill Karla, you'll go into a Coma again. You'll fight her in Limbo again. Your best bet is to find a way to place her body into suspended animation using Steven's equipment. I've said my bit; I'll not remain where I am not wanted. Good luck, Inspector Fox."

"This wouldn't have happened if you didn't abduct Sly and bring him back to Prague," She returned, looking angry again.

Donovan raised his voice in a defensive protest, telling her, "I was manipulated into believing that he was attempting to steal the Clockwerk chip from Interpol so that he and his friends could rebuild Clockwerk for their own purposes. I never knew you people were out to stop Clockwerk."

"You were working in the same building as Clockwerk's hulking frame! How could you not see it right in front of your nose, if you could so easily see everything else, including what happened between me and Sly in an alternative time line?" Carmelita shouted back.

"Steven explained that he was building a robot to defeat Clockwerk should the monster be brought back to life! I didn't know! That's something you'll have to change next time!" He hollered in retort. He then grew quiet and in a soft tone, added, "My apologies, Inspector. It's difficult not to believe The Sire when he speaks to you under his influential powers."

"Don't make excuses for yourself. You were gullible. An intelligent fool; that's all you are. I can't believe you had followers who sought to attack us in the streets of Prague for killing you," She said.

"I do not have followers. I do not have henchmen who sought to attack you on behalf of _my_ intimate brush with death, after you _defeated_ me," Donovan told her.

Carmelita blinked rapidly. "But there were several tough wolf-dogs who attacked us in the streets of Prague after I beat you. They were claiming that I was your murderer and they wanted revenge. Ultimately, Karla had to defeat them while we ran."

"She probably waited until you were out of the picture," Donovan thought out loud, "Then gave them their next orders. They were most likely working for her."

"Or the sire," she added. After thinking about his last statement, she added, "Really? She transported us a few blocks away and finished the combat alone."

"Inspector Fox," Donovan groaned. "You were being naïve and _gullible_. She didn't have followers… she had _suitors_. They did whatever she asked. Most of them were Czech mutts, one of which had exceptional sniping abilities. Another group of about four were business-clad bruisers with the ability to break the necks of just about anyone. Finally, another group was at her disposal which was given orders to patrol the outer provinces on the country border. They were a large enough brood to split off into sub-groups and easily smart enough to organize something as complicated as setting up a train shut down, a road block and radioing back to base if anything is out of the ordinary, which they did when Bentley and Penelope came through."

Carmelita nodded slowly then said, "Now that we've put all the pieces together, Bentley and I can go back and shut down this real Steven's cloning operation. We'll deal with Karla and I'll ensure that you're recruited to the team early on, so that you can help us re-write this history."

The wolf nodded slowly. "Be careful. Changing the course of history is dangerous I hear. I'm sure you'll receive the same warning I've already heard. I can only hope that when I open my eyes next, Sire and Steven will be dead and Clockwerk will cease to exist." With that, Donovan faded into the shadow on the carpet, beneath the seat he was just sitting on. Carmelita stood up, wiped her eyes then approached the Cockpit.

"Bentley, I told Donovan to stay behind. This is up to us; we're the ones who have lost loved ones and we're the ones who should pay the consequences of this danger we face. Don't be upset," She told him, standing in the doorway.

"I'm not. But I am worried that changing the past will have serious consequences on our futures. Let's be careful with our actions. They could have a devastating impact on what happens next," He said to her. She nodded in agreement then sunk back down into the pilot's chair, slumping almost dejectedly. "So you really loved Penelope, huh?"

Bentley nodded in reply to her question. "Yeah. What about your feelings for Sly? Don't worry, I won't…. you know… tell anyone."

"Who's to tell?" Carmelita muttered. "Nobody is left… Yes, I can't imagine my life without him sometimes. Now that I've seen him parish, I know what it's like to lose him and it's incredibly painful. I know I'm going to save him and I'll never know what it's like to see him taken from me but the truth is… he's _my_ criminal. Mine alone. I don't know how I'll react when I see him again, in person. All I know is that I feel empty right now."

"We can only do our best to re-write history," Bentley said with a firm nod. "I know we'll do our best. We still have an hour left before we're in Paris. Why don't you try and rest your eyes for a bit? I'll call you if something comes up."

"Funny," She half-chuckled, "I was just about to suggest the same thing. Your mind needs to be at its sharpest. _You_ go rest. I'll be fine. I can't seem to close my eyes right now."

"Funny," Bentley repeated, off handedly. "I can't seem to close my eyes either. At least, I'd rather that I didn't."

"Then it's settled. We stay awake together." Carmelita slumped back in the pilot's chair. Bentley watched her for a moment then smiled softly when he heard her beginning to breath deeply. It was obvious that she passed out without any trouble. He turned his attention back to the laptop computer built into the wheelchair. It was time to crunch some probability numbers and finish planning.

* * *

**Carmelita Montoya Fox** woke up and felt surprisingly well rested. Perhaps her faith in Bentley's intelligence helped her to stay relatively optimistic concerning the ability to save Sly from an untimely fate. Either way, when she woke up, even after only an hour, she felt great. Of course, her body was running on a restored bit of adrenaline from not having had sleep in a while, but it didn't matter. She had cried all night on the train back to Prague and felt numb for most of the jet ride back to Paris. But now she felt a little recovered and that was better than nothing at all.

Everything felt so ominous, as if a portentous fate was waiting in the rafters. Without proper clearance to land in Paris, they set down at an abandoned airstrip less than an hour from the city line. The Privately owned strip was something Carmelita knew about from helping the local cops to bust a corporate white-collar bigwig who owned two jets that would take off from behind his corporate headquarters. No longer in use, she set the jet down on the old runway and wheeled Bentley out of the cockpit and down the unloading ramp.

The jet was forgotten and the two of them crossed the crisp autumn lot. Leaves fell about them, red and gold in flavor. They approached the main gates which were chained up by the authorities. Once they managed to get around the barbed wire and other metallic annoyances, the two headed for Paris, in the distance. Carmelita flagged down a local police officer and they bummed a ride to Bentley's laboratory.

Carmelita couldn't help but admit that she was impressed with the building he owned. A privately owned building that had popped up in downtown Paris was always a mystery to her until now. She turned to the turtle as they stepped from the police cruiser. "I see you could retire in style after finding Sly's family piggy bank."

"Yes, well, he did leave it to us. I guess he knew we'd take good care of that wealth. I built him a new vault," Bentley admitted. Carmelita turned back to the cop car and thanked the officer then the two of them proceeded to approach the gates on the east end of the building. The grand brick wall that surrounded the rest of the laboratory building was constructed of fine French masonry and the gates seemed to open with but the simple knowledge of Bentley's approach. They creaked softly on their iron hinges, only to shut once the two were within the courtyard. "But I did use a few dollars to build a nice place. Just like Murray used a few dollars to build racing vans and Sly…" Bentley was cut off by the Inspector. He suddenly frowned. "Sorry, I forgot. Don't worry; we'll have him back in no time."

"I hope so," She muttered.

They approached the main doors only for Bentley's breath to catch. Carmelita quirked her brows at the turtle then turned her attention to see what caused his reaction. Her heart stopped when she saw what the problem was… the doors to the Lab building were ajar. Somebody beat them here…

X-

A/N: _OH NOOO! But surly, they've already gone back in time once, what is this hiccup and what in the world is going on? Find out in Chapter 20! This story doesn't have much longer to go… For those of you interested in the sequel to Reflections Of the (the distant) Future, my starfox "next generation" story, I've got good news: I'm already in the third chapter. I beat Sly3 the night I finished writing THIS chapter, like two weeks ago, now, XD… well it's 57 Percent finished but I saw the ending … I guess the master thief trials are left? Ah who knows… anyhow… wee! Chapter 20 of this story is gonna be so clutch. Well, it's looking that way so far. Lol. I've just been doing a lot at once. Oh… and I got laid off last Friday :( Ah well, GM just wasn't bringing the traffic for the job to need salesman. Time to collect unemployment and write some more:D _

_-KitZi. _


	20. Avoiding 'Loop' Holes

A/N: _Okay, last chapter was kinda short and was really just meant to help people confused by chapter 18 and let'em sort of wet their feet again while the characters figured things out on their own… Now that everyone is up to speed, we're in Paris at Bentley's Lab… they're going to the time machine and … what's this? Someone is there already. What's going on? Why didn't they mention anything about this in the alternative time loop? What's going on here? We're about to find out everything… Btw, there's an "Easter Egg" joke in here for Proforce. He'll know it when he sees it. XD_

_-K

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_

Chapter 20: Avoiding 'Loop' Holes

**The Laboratory was empty** but there were still signs of a forced entry. The main room was a massive warehouse and in the center, Bentley's Temporal Machine was running. There was a velvet drape on the floor that was recently used to cover the platform and a metallic arch over the unit. The last set date on the machine's automatic timed activation controls was set to a strange date… the day before Carmelita's first dream occurred.

Bentley wheeled his way to a door at the far end of the room and Carmelita followed. They left the warehouse section and moved into a plush carpeted area. It was very home-like and passed two bedrooms. Carmelita noted that one was his and one was obvious Penelope's room. She started to ask but Bentley put a hand up.

"We were both too shy to go as far as we wanted to go; I think that's been cured now and you don't have to worry about it," The turtle told her coming to a rolling stop. He put his hands back on the wheelchair, turning to head into a room at the end of the hallway. There were security monitors set up on a wall, making use of a cluster of flat panel screens. He tapped some keys then waited, watching a screen.

"Oh my goodness," He murmured softly. Carmelita fumbled to get her glasses out of her shirt pocket and placed them at the bridge of her nose. Bentley replayed the security clip and her jaw parted. On the monitor, she and Bentley crossed the area, she stood up on the machine's platform and Bentley punched a few buttons. After a moment, Bentley wheeled his way over to the platform and the two of them had teleported out, together.

"According to the time stamp on this security tape, this happened an hour before we arrived here. How is that possible?" Bentley inquired to himself. Minutes later, Bentley and Penelope came into the room with Carmelita, holding a shock pistol. Penelope and Carmelita approached the machine's platform, there on the screen, and took their positions unquestioningly. Bentley wheeled his way over to the controls, which could be witnessed from Camera 3, then he punched in a few buttons and wheeled his way over to Carmelita and Penelope.

Another flash and all three of them disappeared. Seconds later, Bentley appeared on the machine's platform, alone. He wheeled his way off the platform and to the control panel, then punched some buttons in on the controls. He wheeled his way back to the platform and took his position just as another person walked into the room, coming into the camera's view. It was yet another version of himself. The two spoke for a moment as they boarded the machine's platform. In a few seconds there was a flash and both of them were gone.

"Do any of them realize that they were all just there seconds before?" Bentley wondered softly. "This is amazing. We've apparently come on a day that happens to be an important junction point in many loops. I have to wonder if half of them even realized that they're all showing within minutes of one another. This is simply amazing."

"What in the hell is going on? Is this planned or coincidence?" Carmelita asked, growing frustrated. "I'm not following this and it's really bugging me. What are they all doing and why are they working together instead of rescuing Sly? Does this mean we've failed and these are all the attempts we try to fix things? That last one, you seemed to show up just in time to meet yourself, or maybe _that_ was a coincidence too?"

"I don't know. I would have to pull up a log of each trip from today, to see who went where and when?" Bentley turned to face her and frowned thoughtfully. He placed a hand on her wrist and looked up at her, gazing through his glasses with an almost painful expression. "Carmelita, please. There must be an explanation. I know this is confusing and all I ask for is that you hold it all together so we can get through this. I know there is a lot going on but please… For Sly?"

She nodded slowly, "For Sly. But this is making my head spin; I don't understand any of it."

"It could be a whole mess of things," Bentley said, shaking his head slowly. "It doesn't necessarily mean we fail and re-try a bunch of times."

"Well what else could it be?" The vixen muttered on the edge of another emotional breakdown. This was getting too confusing and she was struggling to follow what was going on.

"It could be a Mobius Strip Scenario with the cross section of a prism and each prism strand, each of which never crosses back over itself since light doesn't bend under normal circumstances, is shining in a different direction so that it's side by side but not overlapping _directly_." Bentley gave a half shrug.

"What in the world did you just say?" Carmelita asked. After a moment, she lifted her paws and shook her head. "Simple as possible, please."

"There's a book by Professor 'Robert Brown' that you'd probably be able to read; he's a good author," Bentley mused in an almost thoughtful manner. "I doubt that's what is happening here. It was actually just a joke to humor myself so I do apologize. It's when several replaying loops of time all sprout off of one central loop so that they're all different loops in their own right but they all spawn off the first one, replaying into infinity, together."

"Stop, I'm serious. You're explaining this for someone who has a degree in quantum physics. I'm an Inspector, not a rocket science engineer. Let's just go and rescue Sly and Penelope and the rest of them so we can be done with this." She started to walk out of the room, heading back towards the lab area. Bentley wheeled his way out of the security room and followed her down the hallway.

"Say you're driving to work on Monday. It's a short cut through a local neighborhood because you know the main highway is shut down due to construction work. But you're going down the road and some idiot on a bike is in the middle of the road. You honk and they just ignore you. Not only that, someone's walking to work, further up the road, right in the middle of the road…. The biker seems to be going slow so they don't run over the walker who has the audacity to be walking down the middle of the road."

"Okay," Carmelita mused with a very slow nod. "I'm following so far. I'm not sure what this has to do with anything but I have a feeling you'll get to a conclusion that will make a lot of sense for being so confusing… so… continue."

"The next morning, you wake up and can't find your keys. You look everywhere but finally, you just head out to the garage, get your bike and ride to work. You know the street construction up on the main highway should have ended yesterday but taking a bike that route can be dangerous. So, you opt to go through the neighborhood route and set off to work. There's someone up the block, who's jogging in the middle of the street where the road seems to narrow into a one way section. You hang back a little bit and yet someone drives up behind you, honking like a jerk, follow me?" Bentley asked at the end.

"So far, go on," She replied.

"They're honking and you're not in the mood to take crap from anyone, so you stay in the middle of the road and let them honk all the way to work. But the next day, you get up for work and you go out to your bike. You've tried finding your keys again but this time, you didn't look as hard. You were in a mood to just forget about it and not drive. You know you put the key to your bike lock on the kitchen table the night before but it's not there. You don't think to look under the garage floor mat, where you normally keep it, because you know for a fact it was on the kitchen table when you went to bed last night. So you walk to work. You even leave a few minutes early and take the back route through the residential area but some car up the street is beeping at a biker and you can't help but be annoyed."

Carmelita blinked. She suddenly understood. "All three times, I never bothered looking over my shoulder and all along, I was in the car on Monday, on the bike on Tuesday and walking on Wednesday. But all three people, all three times… they were me and I was really going to work at the same time without crossing paths with myself _directly_."

Bentley grew excited that she figured it out. "Exactly! On Monday, an Inspector is given a week's worth of cases. Each day you got into the office, you began a new case thinking the other ones were solved when in reality you went from work to three different jobs all at the same time, because you were really waking up on the same day, over and over… Or whatever the reason may be… there were three of you in the same place at the same time making variations of the same mistakes in different directions. That's the basic idea in laymen's terms. That's _not_ what's going on here," Bentley told her.

"How do you know?" She asked, opening the doors to the warehouse section, once more. The door rolled to the side and up ahead, the machine sat in a perpetual state of waiting.

"Because sometimes it was just us going to the machine, other times we had Penelope and yet another time it was just two of me. There's a method to this madness," he said, wheeling out towards the controls. "We'll find out as we go. Let's hurry." Carmelita nodded and took her place on the machine's platform. Bentley punched some numbers in then wheeled over to the platform.

"How does this thing work, anyhow?" She asked. "Keep it simple."

"Time space is a straight, linear line to the naked eye. It's a string of yarn and it travels forward just like linear time," Bentley said, waiting for the machine to self activate. "If you can manage to bend that yarn so that the ends met, you could take a step and go from point A to point B with a single step, therefore going faster than the speed of light can physically travel. But if you can bend yarn and fold it over itself, you could travel backwards or forward on it, instantly. Time space can take you backwards or forwards and you do it instantly. It's all about what you do with that yarn once you figure out _how_ to _manipulate_ it."

"You can stop right there," Carmelita said, lifting a paw. "Now, when will we show up and how do we go to Prague?"

"A week ago and… we have to find our transportation the old fashion way," Bentley replied. Particles began to swell and glow all about them. Carmelita reached up and took her glasses from upon her muzzle and put them in her shirt pocket. Bentley could see the worry in her face and said, "Relax. We're inside of a temporal bubble. I have an image buffer matrix built into this machine so that if we accidentally arrive in a time or destination where we appear inside of something solid and it kills us, the machine will automatically know to warn us back in time a minute before we leave, with a warning tone. It'll tell us that it's not safe to travel. Image buffering matrixes are very useful. I employed them to help keep Sly alive the first time he hunted for Clockwerk when we set out to steal the Thievious Raccoonus back." (A/N: _Remember his image machine at each waypoint in "Sly1: and the T.R.":D_)

"Like I said," Carmelita repeated, "You can stop right there. Don't get in over people's heads here. Okay, so you've thought of all the bugs, that way we don't arrive in the middle of a busy street in the past and get run over two seconds later… That's all you had to say."

"Sure," He muttered, folding his arms. The machine hummed softly and the particles spun about them, as if orbiting their bodies. The swirling clumps of light fluttered and twinkled, revolving rapidly. "It might tickle a little bit," Bentley said… his words were growing thin and his voice echoed a bit as the very sound waves began to break down; beginning to shift before the matter itself.

Carmelita's ears flattened and she clinched her paws into fists, tightly. She felt as though she were spinning. Her stomach ached but it was empty. A pressure grew at the base of her throat. She would have thrown up if she could but there was nothing in her to come out.

A sharp sting could be felt in her ear, where the bullet had passed through. She suddenly felt exhausted and disjointed as though she were falling. She clinched her eyes shut for a moment only to feel the sensation of cold wind against her face. Prying her eyes open, she could feel the awkward sensation of her eyes being dry from falling through cold air. She squinted to protect those amber orbs and lifted her paws to feel through the void.

The world formed around her and she descended upon it at a rapid rate. She could see Paris beneath her, only to realize that she was falling so very slowly, it was like living in actual slow motion. The roof of Bentley's lab was beneath her and she was descending upon it, falling through the sky. She fell so incredibly slow that her descent felt anything but fatal. She crashed upon the roof, absorbing the impact and collapsing to her hands and knees in an incredibly slow collision.

Finally, time sped up and she flopped over, onto her back, panting softly. She lay there in the cool air, on the Lab roof and the world was quiet. She was now laying two stories above the time machine, outside. Her fur had a burnt smell to it but she was bitter cold. The rubber on her shoes felt gooey as if she'd just marched through the hottest desert in the world with them.

Carmelita sat up, rubbing her eyes. Bentley was a bit luckier. He was sitting up in his wheelchair, watching her sympathetically since he didn't have the legs or ability to help the vixen to her feet. She reached into one of her pockets and drew out a cell phone. It operated on a local cellular frequency so that the clock built into the screen would show current time based on satellite. The numbers changed over and the date changed, as if she'd just passed through several time zones. She smiled… it worked. They were here. A moment later, the cell phone's screen displayed a strange image.

"What's wrong?" Bentley asked, peering over her shoulder at the device.

She gave his question some thought then finally answered, "My cellular telephone is telling me that my SIM card is detecting someone on this network at this identification number and it's deactivating my cellular service on this particular phone. I won't be able to make calls. It keeps people from hacking in and using someone else's number and information at the same time."

"That's why I have several Pre-pay TRAC-phones in my duffle, just incase I go a short time into the future. I keep them charged with minutes and I have two satellite phones," Bentley mused, looking around the area. He took his Binoc-u-com from his gear and zoomed in on a newspaper stand across the street. A grin touched his lips then he passed the binoculars to her. She saw what day of week the newspaper was and grinned.

"I can hardly believe it. We're here, we made it and we're okay!" She exclaimed. "We're going to save them; this is more than I could have ever asked for, Bentley." Seeing physical evidence helped Carmelita to associate with everything that had happened. She'd been asked to understand time travel for the last day and now that it happened the reality of it helped her mind to comprehend the fact of the matter.

Bentley smiled at the verity of their success. He wheeled to the edge of the building and said, "We've got to hurry to Prague. We only have this week to make sure everything happens differently. Let's find transportation and get this show on the road!"

"Agreed," Carmelita nodded. She walked to the edge, glanced down to the ground then leapt off the side. She leisurely performed a somersault. Her feet connected with the ground and she immediately dropped into a crouch to absorb the impact of the landing. Bentley used a rocket controlled booster on the bottom of his chair, added with the shocks he'd installed on the two larger wheels.

Just as they landed on the ground, the door of the Lab began to open. Bentley snatched Carmelita by her shirt sleeve then used his other hand to hit the booster, dragging her around the corner quickly. Bentley and Penelope from the past came out the front door, each holding a set of train tickets. Once they were out of the area, the remaining Bentley, sitting besides Carmelita Fox, sighed in relief.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"No changes can be made until we get to Prague," Bentley explained. "If we alter one detail, the effect could have a profound impact, including some sort of chain of events that keeps the whole team from arriving in Prague. That could change _everything_. I don't want to cross paths with ourselves unless we absolutely have to… and I'd like to wait until we get to Prague before we let it happen." He began to wheel his way into the front doors and approached a coat rack by the door.

Bentley took a jacket off the stand and pulled it on. He leaned forward in the wheelchair then smoothed out the fabric. The turtle shifted his weight and turned to face her with a nod. "It's going to be cold, heading into Prague. I didn't bring a jacket last time and I won't make that mistake again. Ready? And remember, we cannot cross paths with ourselves _until_ we're in Prague."

"You've already seen two of yourselves together, using the time machine," Carmelita said, reminding him of the security footage from earlier. He nodded slowly in agreement then shrugged.

"Like I said," He reiterated, "There are certain moments we cannot alter, to ensure we all wind up in Prague and begin certain things the same way. However," Bentley said to her, "We have to ensure certain things happen completely different so that we don't have the same fated death waiting for us. Some occurrences have to change completely, but all of us getting to Prague… that must happen without a hitch, so let's not cross paths with our doppelgangers until we're in the Czech Republic. Let's find a method of transportation."

"Agreed," Carmelita said. "Let's get a move on."

The two of them hailed a taxi cab and headed for the local airport. It wasn't a long drive but once they arrived, Carmelita realized that they were low on cash. She was able to pay the fair but it was quickly decided that they wouldn't be able to afford plane tickets. Bentley gave her a grin and with her help of getting his chair out of the taxi's trunk, they headed into the airport.

"What, you have a healthy bank account and plan to use a credit card?" She asked, quirking a brow at him, concerning his grin. Bentley just shook his head and gave her a wink, "This is the brilliancy of time travel, Inspector."

"Again, are you using credit or something?" She grumbled.

"Credit cards and bank accounts are too easily linked to someone. When you have access to a vault with an excess of four-point-nine trillion dollars, not counting artifacts and non-coin related currency, you stop using anything but cash. It's true, I failed to bring money with me but I have a better idea," Bentley told her. He sat up in his wheel chair, opening a jacket to show her that the interior jacket pocket was empty. He then pushed his sleeves up his arms. "As you can plainly see, there is nothing up my sleeves or inside my pockets."

Carmelita narrowed her eyes, lowering her ears. She smirked then replied, "Yeah, I see, Turtle. What's the trick, here? And do you realize, that technically makes Sly Cooper the single wealthiest man on the planet? Bill Gates of Microsoft weighs in at over 65 billion in personal net worth but 5 trillion, not counting possessions? At liquidation, he'd be worth at least 10… I've seen the inside of that vault, remember?"

"Watch and learn," Bentley said, taking out his PDA and stylus. He wrote down, '_Monday, one hour before noon, left interior pocket, Air France. Two tickets_.' Carmelita watched him and quirked a brow. Bentley put the PDA back into a compartment on his wheelchair. "I wrote a memo to myself after we live through this. Now… ready for the magic?"

"I guess," She replied with an unsure voice. Bentley opened his jacket again and this time, there were two plane tickets in the interior pocket. He pulled them out and waved them in the air with a broad grin. She blinked twice and exclaimed, "That's unbelievable! Bentley, that's amazing! Doesn't this technically mean we survive to go back and do that task for ourselves?"

"If we're smart… our general future hasn't been written yet," He explained. "…if we succeed, we'll be able to do this for ourselves… it's a paradox in itself. Anyway, let's go get ready for our flight out of here. The time on the tickets is for twenty minutes from now."

"I'm really impressed," Carmelita conceded. She glanced down at the shock pistol on her hip and frowned. "I can't carry weapons on public flights without a valid badge. Can I leave it hidden here and somehow have it wind up in Prague?"

"Tricky but not impossible," Bentley replied. "Go into the lady's bathroom and hide it in a heating duct. I'll make a note of it to be placed in Prague in a similar location."

Before Carmelita could walk towards the bathroom, a gentleman approached her and offered a paw. "Salutations," he said softly. "You may call me Raúl Sergio Poliandro my dear."

"That's nice," Replied the Latin Vixen with a sharp narrowing of her eyes. "Is there something I can do to help you?"

"Neither of you belong here. I could easily say you're breaking a universal law but who am I to stop you or tell you that you're wrong; I'm simply here to tell you that fighting Supernatural beings with time travel is very dangerous."

Bentley wheeled his chair towards Carmelita and the slender yet muscular canine. His overly perfect frame was the type of body that Bentley used to tape his head to, when posting his photograph online, years ago. Carmelita, however, was not impressed. She folded her arms across her chest and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "What you're doing is getting in my way," She told him.

Raúl simply waved a paw and everyone in the airport stopped in their tracks. They were all suspended; frozen in time. Bentley and Carmelita glanced about themselves, blinking in shock. A single euro was levitating above the ground besides a person who had dropped it. A pigeon was flying into the rafters above their head and it was frozen in mid flap. Poliandro approached an elderly woman nearby and knelt down in front of her.

The smooth speaking, well chiseled canine pulled the woman's untied laces out from under her other foot then tied her shoe. Carmelita quirked a brow watching the man who stood up a moment later and turned to face her and Bentley once more. "She would have stumbled on her laces," Explained the man. His English was very distinctive and pronounced. And yet his name suggested that he was not British at all.

"What are you doing here and what purpose do you have flaunting your supernatural abilities for us?" She finally asked.

"You're disrupting the natural flow of time," Said Raúl, adding, "Temporis is my playground. Trust me when I tell you that you cannot defeat me. If you shoot me, I will stop your rounds and pluck them from the air. When you least expect it, I will place the frozen round an inch from your nose and release it. And yes, I work with The Sire on occasion, but he is no friend. What is your quandary, concerning that man?"

"He's working with a demon who seeks to be brought to life," Carmelita replied, unfolding her arms and placing her paws on her hips. "Karla Chintzy, the half-breed feline fox, is working directly with this freak to attempt to seduce Sly Cooper to bare a true-blood Immortal Master Thief for Sire and this Demon to manipulate. They seek artifacts around the globe that will conjure the spirit of this evil and they will place it into the body of a finished Clockwerk, so that he can rule in the Physical realm."

The canine tilted his head, pondering the possibility of what she spoke of. "You speak of the resurrection of the serpent of evil, The Devil himself. In some religions, it brings about the end of days. It is the first signaled step in a long line of steps that brings this world to its ultimate conclusion. Time will not cease but it would no longer matter," Raúl mused thoughtfully.

"So are you like, a guardian of time or something?" Bentley asked the question but it didn't quite come out the way he wanted to word it. He ran his fingers back over his head, as if sifting through hair that wasn't there then he rephrased the inquiry. "Are you a guardian of time or is the control over time something you simply have a supernatural grasp over?"

Raúl frowned thoughtfully, shaking his head slowly. "The latter, dear turtle. I would, however, decimate any man who sought to re-write history. The outcome of changing the past is devastating. What is your reason for visiting the past, you two?"

"We were attacked while trying to put a stop to this 'Nagan' Joker," Carmelita replied flatly. Her ears laid back upon speaking the name. Poliandro nodded slowly in return then reached a paw to touch his lower lip for a moment.

"You cannot return to the present with any time altering information concerning the past or future. That means no betting or gambling or playing the loophole for personal gain," The dog told them, before adding, "That means no one here tries to take over the world. No one here tries to make any serious changes. Now, everyone wants to go back in time to change a mistake. Tell me the truth, what is your intention?"

Carmelita Fox shook her head slowly with a sigh. "Stop our group from being killed. Then we're going to help them stop Clockwerk, The Sire and Karla Chintzy from becoming successful in their endeavors to bring about the Revelations from occurring. I fought Chintzy in some sort of Limbo world. I know how crazy this chick is. I've seen the battlefield of bodies. I know they're serious and we've got to hurry."

"This sounds rather serious," Raúl mused with an airy tone. "I do not 'show off' my abilities and I am certainly not 'father time' or any of that jargon. I am simply a man with a large responsibility. I will try my best to keep an eye on you. This argot is not something I am used to and every idiom that I've fed you is something that I will hope you both forget. Am I making myself clear?"

Bentley ushered Carmelita off, towards the bathroom, to hide her shock pistol. "Are you telling me that you want us to forget you ever said anything to us and in return, you'll allow us to finish our business?" Asked the brainy tortoise.

"That is what I mean to say to you both," Said the canine with a slow nod of his head. "But if I catch either of you abusing the power of time itself, you'll both be very sorry." And just like that, time returned to its normal speed and Raúl Sergio Poliandro was gone. Once Carmelita returned, without her shock pistol, she glanced around.

"Where'd he go?" She asked. Bentley simply shrugged. It was awkward knowing that they had someone watching them who had the ability to stop objects and life itself. Fortunately, the two of them still had a full 19 minutes to get ready for the flight. "Arrogant son of a gun, wasn't he?"

Bentley took a long slow breath then said, "I think he realizes the severity of our plight. If we fail time itself becomes meaningless and the power of time cannot stop a pure power of evil because evil is an infinite half of the balance of life."

"So instead of helping us, he's just going to let us help ourselves?" Carmelita asked as the two headed through the security section of the airport. "I mean, if all of time could possibly be worthless when the world falls into the hands of evil, or whatever, doesn't he have the responsibility to help us?"

The tortoise shrugged slightly, causing his entire shell to shift upwards for a moment. "He took on the responsibility of ensuring that no one abuses time travel to take over the world. If they do it through means of a linier sequence of events, it happens on its own and stopping time forever doesn't change anything, it's just… It's all messed up, let's not cause too much trouble," Bentley told her.

"Whatever _that_ means," Carmelita replied, stepping through a turnstile and handing over half of her airline ticket. The other end was stamped and handed back to her. The two of them stepped into the accordion-like tunnel that led to the airplane and they took their seats. "I'd better not have to fight that pink bitch again."

"We'll try our best to avoid that, when we get to Prague. Expect things to be difficult," Bentley mused. "Every bad guy has a backup plan. If we put an end to their tyranny with one fell swoop, expect for them to play by a different set of rules. I expect this to be exceedingly difficult. First thing is first, upon arrival, we have to find and destroy the new Clockwerk Hate Chip. Maybe we can find something of use on location at the bank that will help us stop Karla early on. However, we can't take her out right away."

"Why in the heck not?" Carmelita asked, narrowing her eyes.

Bentley fastened his seatbelt and his wheelchair was locked into place against the wall in a spot in the first class section designed for wheelchairs. He then turned to her and said, "Because she helped to keep us alive at certain moments. She wanted to obtain our trust and so letting her keep us alive becomes a vital instance that cannot change. We have to find a way to stop her without killing her or you'll wind up fighting her in Limbo again. You in a coma becomes a time consuming thing… if you stay awake the entire mission, our resources improve and our probability of success increases by about Twenty-Five percent."

"I see you've thought about this," Carmelita replied softly. "Then it's settled. Our first work of secular sabotage is to destroy the Clockwerk hate chip. I don't steal things, but I have no problem breaking it into a million pieces."

The plane began to head out to the main part of the tarmac, coming around to the fourth strip of runway, facing west. It was time to get this show on the road. Very soon, she would see Sly again and the rest of his group. They would all be alive and she knew this. It was time to psyche herself up and prepare her emotions so that she could stay as professional as possible.

They were about to embark on an adventure that, until now, was only written about in fictional stories. They were about to re-write history, more than for their personal gain: They were about to save the world from the force of evil, itself. Who knew if they would die trying or not… who knew if, when this all concluded, they would have the memories of this adventure erased from their minds. They could only hope that they managed to do things correctly and guide their doppelgangers through this journey so that they never even realized that anything happened and that they never had a reason to go back in time to begin with.

Carmelita was a nervous wreck. But she had her 'game face' on and was ready to stay professional until this entire thing concluded. For now, she could do nothing but sit and wait. The flight would take several hours…

* * *

A/N: _LoL, I plan on giving them hell. It's going to take everyone to stop the plans of someone as sinister as the entity of evil, itself. He has many faces with which to fight them… Sly's Clone, Clockwerk's maker, Clockwerk, Karla… The Sire. They have to stop them all or they're all doomed! Stick around for chapter 21, a return to action!_

_-Kit_


	21. Consequences

Chapter 21: "_Consequences_"

* * *

**The plane touched down **several minutes early, due to luck. Good tailwind was the explanation; conversely, both Carmelita and Bentley knew that snow would be blowing into the area very soon. Carmelita went into the woman's bathroom and found a ventilation register. Low and behold, her Shock Pistol was there. She pulled it from the vent and checked the charge cell. Full power.

Holstering the sidearm, Carmelita approached a mirror and took a moment to wash her face. She'd been on the run for days now and a long shower would have been better but she had to take what she could get. Her eyes lifted back to the mirror and she gazed upon herself as if she was looking at a stranger.

"You know you're not doing this to save the world or even your job," the vixen whispered softly. She drew in a slow breath then released it as a sigh. "Why do you love him? He left you last year. He'll do it again. I'm not some," She paused, thinking of a derogatory term, "I'm not some… Mary Sue," She added, muttering the name at the end. "Am I?"

"Let's take a look at you, Carmelita," She told herself, still staring into the mirror. "Are you a Mary Sue because you love him or is it because you're constantly pushing him away in an attempt to be professional? Is it because you've run out of tears? Stop being a chump," She said scornfully. This moment to scold herself may have been something she truly needed all along.

Her paws were lifted back to either side of her face, gently rubbing at the temples of her skull. She was at the verge of having a headache from everything that was happening. It was over the top and plainly unbelievable. If someone else told her about this entire situation she wouldn't have believed it.

"I love him but we just don't see eye to eye sometimes," She explained in an almost defensive demeanor. "I wish I was back in my tub a few days ago. Calgon, take me away," She added as bit of personal humor. It was the catchphrase for a bath commercial often aired on television a few years ago. The advertisement was almost always directed at women who just wanted to soak in the bathtub and forget their troubles for a while. The thought of soaking in a tub sounded pretty good right about now.

"You're tough," She said, directing her attention back to the mirror again, "But you're just bottling every little thing. When the lid eventually flies off, it's probably going to be accompanied by the entire 'bottle' breaking. Don't destroy yourself by being so callous and emotionless. That's what caused him to die the first time. You've got to think outside the box if you're going to do things differently and save him."

Another deep breath and a sigh. She covered her face in water again then dried off with paper towels. Feeling marginally rejuvenated, Carmelita turned back towards the door, stepping out into the Prague Airport, once more. She approached Bentley and offered him an awkward smile. Before he could ask what took her so long, she simply confessed, "I love him and that's why I'm doing this, all right?"

Bentley blinked. It wasn't the Carmelita he was used to. He nodded slowly, as if cautiously, then said, "I love him too, like a brother. We argue, we fight, we get a long, and we trust and rely on one another. Does he know you love him?"

"Yeah and that's what always got under my fur," Carmelita surmised. "He knew I've been in love with him but I never knew if he loved _me_ enough. I can't help who I love, even if I can't stand criminals to begin with. Maybe that's why I chase him with obsessive passion and such a deep seeded anger. It pisses me off. I've chased him long before I fell in love and I don't even remember exactly _when_ it happened. I don't think it was when he saved me from the gas chamber, or kissed me at the top of Clockwerk's Volcano fortress. It began shortly after that, though. I don't think that it was just one thing but our entire history."

Bentley remained silent, listening to her drawn out explanation. It was rare that she opened up her feelings and he never thought he'd be the one she'd open up to. It didn't matter, she was spilling her guts and he was the one who was around to hear it. He simply assumed that she was exhausted and emotionally drained due to their dramatic and stressful situation.

"Was your gun in the bathroom like we planned?" He finally asked.

"Did you even hear a word I said about Sly?" She snapped, glaring at the tortoise. "And yes it was in the damn vent; I was trying to confess my feelings so I do things differently to better ensure that these events don't turn out the same way as well! Who is to say we didn't try to save ourselves the whole time we experienced this mess the first time around?"

"Do you think it's possible?" Bentley asked, tilting his head, recovering from the wince that was offered in reply to Carmelita's temper.

Carmelita's shoulders slumped. "Maybe I was too shallow to do anything but act without emotion or impulse and it caused our failure. This time, I'm going to try to be a woman fighting for a man instead of a cop fighting the good fight for everyone but myself. I've got to learn to fight with my heart instead of my badge; Lord knows I'm not much of a cop right now."

"You were suspended, not fired," Bentley reminded her. "They can't fire you, you're a good cop. But I'm not arguing; Sly fights with his heart every time he picks up his cane. It's kept him alive this long, now we've got to help him by joining him."

"Let's start by finding the Clockwerk Chip," Carmelita said, reciting their plan of action. "Donovan Loupe should be bringing it to the Bank, along with Sly's unconscious body, any moment now. That means I'm also likely to be in the area. Next, I think we should stop the Sly Cooper Clone."

Bentley couldn't beat around the bush on this topic. He bluntly told her, "While I still find it difficult to believe that Sly has a clone in a glass tube, I'm willing to at least investigate your claim, Inspector Fox."

"You'll see," She promised. "From a woman's perspective, he's gorgeous. From the perspective of a woman who loves Sly Cooper, this imposter is dreadfully repulsive. We have to stop him before they can wake him up. Something like that shouldn't be allowed to exist."

"Very well," Bentley agreed. "First the Hate Chip, then Slick Cooper, then we tackle Karla Chintzy. This gives our doppelgangers enough time to progress in their mission that, by the time we're finished with our tasks, Karla will have become unnecessary to our other halves, then you can turn your attention on what to do with her."

"If I kill her too early, we'll just have to personally save ourselves." Carmelita then shrugged and added, "And I'll do my best to keep my temper in check, I'm just really tired."

"We're both tired," Bentley suggested respectfully. "Let's go and get this chip from Donovan. We'll figure the rest out from there," He added. Carmelita nodded in agreement and the two left the airport, taking public transportation to Wenceslas Square. They were dropped off near the statue of the 10th century Bohemian Duke, from which the square obtained its name. The city's normally-lively hub was fairly quiet and the evening shoppers had not yet come out. Most everyone was still at work or home for dinner at this point. The day crowd had gone home and the evening crowd was about to arrive on the scene.

The bank had only just closed and from their vantage point, Bentley and Carmelita could see Donovan Loupe carrying Sly Cooper's motionless body over his shoulder, heading towards the bank. At this hour on this day, Donovan was bringing Sly from France, where Sly was rendered unconscious during his heist and initial confrontation with Loupe.

Carmelita glanced at Bentley, nodded and said, "It's now or never, let's go!" She then dashed off towards the bank, hurrying before Donovan could make it to the doors. She drew her shock pistol from beneath the hem of her jacket and quickly brought the sights down upon the shadow-endowed wolf.

Bentley fired his rocket booster on the wheelchair and followed her quickly. It was time to destroy this Hate Chip for good. Then they would only have to worry about the people capable of making another. As they approached, Donovan glanced over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes.

Massive tendrils of shadow erupted from beneath nearby automobiles that were parked along the streets. One of the dark arms wrapped quickly about Sly Cooper, holding him up against the wall of the bank. His head was drooped forward, still unconscious. Carmelita was already upon the lupine creature, slugging him across the side of his muzzle with her shock pistol.

He reeled back, wrapping a shadowy tentacle around her waist at the same time. She was quick, however, and with the gun in her extended paw, she pulled the trigger, catching Donovan in his face at point blank range. Loupe was off balance and off guard from the ambush and struggled to maintain his coordination after taking such a high voltage shot to his face.

The attack caused him to strain for control of his powers concerning the black, tar-like arm about her waist. She was quick and had been planning this for the entire afternoon. The arm was loosened and she clicked the trigger again. Two consecutive blasts in his face caused the wolf to drop to his knees, slumping to the ground.

The shadow disappeared around her as well as Sly. The raccoon slid down the brick wall of the bank, collapsing to the sidewalk. Carmelita drew her foot back angrily and kicked the wolf across the snout so that he was laid out, flat upon his back. She then knelt over him, panting furiously, checking his pockets.

Once the Hate Chip was discovered, she threw it to the ground, shot it with her shock pistol then stomped the remnants into dust and ash. Bentley rolled up alongside of her, partially bemused at her brutality. "Now what? He still has to capture Sly and make everything else happen appropriately. What about the Chip he's supposed to give to his superiors so they don't catch on?" Bentley asked.

"Dammit," she groused. There should have been a far more subtle way. This wasn't subtle and now she felt like she ruined everything. "What do we do now? What if we changed everything too much and their plans become more diabolical?"

"All right, don't worry," Bentley told her. "I built a fraud chip before, I can do it again."

"But we don't have all night!" Carmelita exclaimed, approaching Sly and sitting down on the concrete besides his body. She placed her paw on his chest, taking comfort in the fact that he was alive. It was a huge relief, regardless of their situation. She gently placed her arms around him, as it was the first time since she'd last seen him dead. Then, to Bentley's surprise, she took a moment to weep softly against his shirt, just to release a fraction of her pent up frustrations. The tears felt good. It was something she needed to do: she needed to take a moment and simply release a bit of tension for herself.

Bentley gave her a moment then leaned over his wheelchair's armrest and softly said, "We've been through this at the airport. I'll make a note to build a chip and make sure it is brought to this time and moment, at this exact location."

Bentley jotted something down in his organizer then tapped his chin pensively with a finger. He then glanced around the area and thought for a moment. "Ah hah!" He exclaimed, wheeling over to the potted plants out in front of the bank. He reached over the side of his armrest and pushed his fist into the soil that was held within the ceramic container.

A computer chip was recovered and a grin was offered to her. Bentley then wheeled over to the fallen form of Donovan Loupe. "What pocket did he put it in?"

"His front-right pocket. Your left," She said, lifting her head and rubbing her tear-filled gaze with the back of her paw. "I don't mean to be a baby about this, I've just got a lot of crap to sort out, it's been a pretty rough week," She explained, still using the backside of her paws to dry her eyes. She despised crying but considering the unbelievable week she'd been through, it was necessary.

"Check," Bentley replied softly, using a metallic hand-like extension from his wheelchair to replace the new chip. "Now we back off, I know just how to wake him."

"How?" Carmelita inquired as she stood up, casting one last glance back to Sly, on the ground. She didn't want to leave him and it pained her to know she had to do so. But if certain things didn't go according to plan, the pair of time travelers wouldn't be able to plan their course of actions around the knowledge of what would happen in what order.

"We get a water-balloon or something similar than find a good hiding place nearby and find a way to hit him with it," Bentley said, suddenly shaking his head, "No, that won't work. Maybe just a stone or something." Before they could finish deciding what to do, Donovan elicited a soft groan, reaching a paw to the side of his face. Bentley smirked, nodding at Carmelita. "Good enough for me, let's scram."

"Agreed," She replied, darting off towards the nearest alley. Bentley did the same, going in the opposite directly. They would have to meet up behind the bank. In the meantime, Donovan stood up, checked his pocket for the chip then shook off the effects of his numb muzzle. He then picked up Sly and took the raccoon into the bank. Plan one was accomplished, thus far.

* * *

**Carmelita placed her paws against the** brick wall at the back of the bank. She leaned forward, tucking her head between her elbows and opened her muzzle. Her stomach wanted to throw up but from lack of anything to eat or drink lately, she could only dry heave. Between the fruitless attempts of throwing up, she grumbled to herself about how she had to 'pull it together'.

"Carmelita," Bentley added with a soft sigh. "You've gone without food, drink or solid rest. When you have slept, you've reported nightmares. You can't run on adrenaline forever," the tortoise told her. "Pulling it together is fine and all but your health is going to deteriorate rapidly if you continue putting everything else before your body."

"I don't know what you're talking about," She wheezed, wiping the back of her muzzle with her paw. "I'm fine and I don't have an apatite. What's next on our list of things to accomplish?"

Bentley shook his head in disagreement. "I'm telling you, if you don't find a place to rest while I set some plans in motion; you'll be unable to work when I need you the most."

"I'm fine," She snapped, clinching her paw tightly. "I'm always able to do my job, turtle."

"Your body is crashing hard," Bentley reasoned. "You're trying to ignore it and everything that's happened lately is taking an incredible toll on you. If you were to face Sire right now, you'd not have the willpower to even try to stand up to him."

"I have more than determination, I still have _this_," She said, reaching her right paw up under her left sleeve. The Pendant of Willpower was pulled down her arm from its hiding place. "I'm ready for him." She'd taken it from Sly's body the night he died, when laying over his broken form. ..._Just incase._

"As relieved as I am to see that," Bentley replied, "I doubt it will help with you being on the edge of extreme exhaustion. I need you to be at your best to fight so I'm going to find us a Safe House and you're going to get a meal and a nap and that's an order."

"I don't take orders from thieving criminals," Inspector Fox said, glowering at the man. "I'll kick your tiny little tail into the next century _without_ a time machine. You'll be shell-shocked so fast, your head will spin."

"_Stop_ stressing yourself," Bentley warned, frowning thoughtfully. "If I was a doctor, I'd have you sedated and placed on a weekend of sick leave. And I need you right now. Trust me: I am the last person to worry about a cop who wants nothing more than to put me and two of my friends in jail. But I need you to be sharp and on point. You're a zombie with a temper at best, right now."

"I liked you better when you were telling me how to get through the building, the first time I found myself here," She told him angrily. "Now you're falling apart on me, thinking I'm tired and hungry. You don't know my body, Bentley J. Turtle. I'm serious, I'm completely fine," She was trying to rationalize and reason when suddenly, her mind went blank and she reached to rub at her eyes again. "My stomach hurts, but other than that I'm… I'm fine."

"Inspector Fox," Bentley said, lifting a hand. She turned away from him, placing her right arm up against the wall, tucking her face into her elbow with labored breathing. "I just need to throw up, then I'll feel better. I know how to handle a headache, I'm a grown woman."

"Headaches too?" Bentley said, shaking his head. "And your joints?"

"Achy, but that's to be expected. I've been on my feet a lot," She reasoned.

"You're dehydrated," Bentley replied flatly. "I don't have an IV of water, so I suggest Gatorade or Pedialyte. Let's stop and get supplies, make a Safe House and plan our next move. Can you at least agree to that?"

Carmelita shook her head rapidly. The over-tired Latin Vixen was working herself to the bone. "We've got to find that crazy Clone of Sly Cooper. That will be their next move. Now that Clockwerk won't activate when they put that chip in him, they'll wake Slick Cooper and use him to buy them time. I'm a good Inspector, I can profile people like this and anticipate their next move; we have to target this Clone right away."

"Are we really going to argue about this again, right now?" Bentley asked. "I said you need to rest," he repeated. "Now where are they keeping this Clone?"

"It's in a castle on the edge of town," Carmelita said, shaking her head rapidly. "I want to personally shut it down. It's in the Castle of Vohzd Voorhemes, according to some Moose Lady that I had to rough up. This place is no joke; it's the Sire's personal secret lair."

"All right, if we go and break in, will you agree to rest?" Bentley glared at her. Finally, Carmelita nodded, conceding to such an arrangement. She backed away from the wall, turning to face Bentley directly. In the illumination of a light mounted to the wall above the back door, Bentley could plainly see that she had dark circles beneath her eyes. "Let's go, it's at the edge of town."

* * *

**The castle was** simply ridiculous. It was incredibly large and, located inside the courtyard within the front gates, was a solar field. The generators were in rows approximately three acres in size. It was designed in much the same manor as the United States Pentagon Solar Farm. It was obvious that this powered some fantastic machinery within the castle.

Bentley glanced around then announced, "There aren't any guards, what's up with that?"

"I didn't see any when I escaped from here before I saw Sly killed," Carmelita replied. "It's quite a structure to be left without guards. Might I also mention that Steven is alive and lives here, at the same time we saw him at the bank?"

"Pardon?" Bentley glanced over at her as they walked through the courtyard, heading towards the main entrance. "There are two Steven Skunks?"

"There are two Steven Skunks," She repeated. "The one at the bank is a crazy clone who dies when Clockwerk kills him. Now that Clockwerk won't activate, that clone of Steven will not die."

"Thus altering a great deal of events," Bentley mused thoughtfully. "We either have to kill him ourselves to keep certain events true to nature or certain changes like that will guarantee that we live. If one Steven doesn't finish building Clockwerk the other may very well do so."

Carmelita stopped in front of the doors and turned to the wheelchair, facing Bentley. She took a long, slow breath then began her explanation. "No, the _real_ Steven, who built Clockwerk's metal body ages ago, thinks that Clockwerk was a huge failure. The Sire, however, wants Clockwerk's body assembled so that the Demon who Karla Chintzy is working for can be brought from the metaphysical world and placed into Clockwerk's body. The Sire is playing both Stevens against one another and befriending them both. They think they're immune to his powers but, in reality, they're not immune to his manipulation. Do you really think Sire would allow someone as intelligent as Steven or his Clone to live if they were immune to his powers? Not if he needed them or was so easily able to manipulate them with a good old fashion silver tongue," She elucidated.

"Thank you for explicating the situation," Bentley said. "I take it that you had them explain everything to you in the cliché, stereotypical bad-guy fashion when they think they've already won?"

"They can be so predictable sometimes," She added, shaking her head. The main doors were opened and the lobby was laid out before them. The secretary was reading a book at the front desk, up against a wall on the far side. Carmelita flashed her wallet with a piece of metal inside of it, quickly faking a badge-flash.

They continued forward, taking a flight of stairs up to the second floor. The next room opened up into a massive forest of computers that caused Bentley to nearly drool. She led him through the aisles for several moments until they found their way back to the center, where the massive glass pillar was located. It was covered in cloudy condensation and she reached her paw out to wipe it away.

To her complete shock, the tube was empty. "It wasn't like this! Slick Cooper was in here, black furred with gray-stripe markings! I saw him with my own eyes!"

"He's not here, though," Bentley said.

"What could have changed?" She demanded, balling her paws into fists. The chamber was filled with fluid but otherwise empty. Carmelita was beyond frustrated. "How long does it normally take to grow an adult clone?"

"Quite some time," Bentley said. "I've never tried it but from the research I've read, on the internet, it would take _more_ than a few hours or a day, that's for sure."

"This is impossible, he was _right here_," barked the Inspector. "Dammit!" She drew her fists back and struck the glass tube, bruising her knuckles. She brought her other paw down on the glass, punching it repeatedly. "You damned scoundrels!" She shouted at the empty chamber. "Let's get the hell out of here, something is wrong. Either we're in one of those Alternative skewed time lines like in that damn movie about going back to the future, or we're missing some sort of bigger picture. Maybe he was made elsewhere and they bring him here sometime in the near future to finish being made, I don't know!"

"Carmelita," Bentley said, "let's find a Safe House and start getting plans together. Everything will happen differently now that Clockwerk won't function. At least we've accomplished the chip switch. It might be easiest to rest up, find and defeat Karla Chintzy without killing her then rescuing ourselves. Maybe things will be easier from here on out."

"Fine," She grumbled. "I've got a headache anyhow. Let's go," She replied, obviously angry that she couldn't fight the clone of Sly Cooper.

They left the castle, facing the rest of Prague. A taxi came up to the front gates and stopped. "Did you call for that taxi?" Carmelita asked.

"No," Bentley said. The back door opened and out stepped Steven Skunk. He didn't yet recognize Carmelita and Bentley, since he'd never crossed paths with them at this point of time yet. In his paw was a manila envelope. He passed Carmelita and Bentley, stopping to look them over. The pair couldn't be sure if this was the real Steven or his clone at this point.

"Can I help you two?" He asked the Inspector and turtle. She flashed her wallet at him, not letting him see anything more than a glint of metal where the fake badge was placed. The skunk smirked then continued to pass them, heading inside the castle's main entrance.

Carmelita began to head towards the taxi again, rubbing her head with one paw and using the other to replace her wallet into her pocket. Bentley wheeled himself towards the Taxi Cab. The driver stepped out of the car, came around to help Bentley fold up his chair and put it into the trunk. Bentley, however, had built his impressive chair to fold up at the touch of a button and slid out of the chair. With Carmelita's help, he was eased into the back of the taxi cab while the chair began to automatically fold down.

The taxi cab driver put it into the trunk while Carmelita slid into the back seat and buckled herself in. "What do you think he was doing at the castle?" she asked, rubbing her head with both paws now.

"I'm not sure. Are you all right?" Bentley asked. "You look pale."

"I told you I was fine," She said. But the façade was a poor portico pretense, and tears were welling up in her eyes again. Her veneer had failed. "I can't believe he wasn't in there. What'll we do now?"

"I wish I knew," Bentley said with a sigh of defeat. He hated seeing her hold back tears but worse, he hated to see her unable to hold back tears. That's exactly what was happening. As the taxi cab driver got back into the driver's seat and began to drive towards Prague, Carmelita Fox was choking back sobs of frustration. Where was the clone? Was she delirious about what she saw before? She didn't know the answers to any of her questions.

* * *

**Steven stepped off the elevator** to the 4th floor of the Castle. He walked down the hallway and opened a door at the far end. Stepping into the room, he shut the door behind himself and approached a figure by the window. The silhouette of a being turned around and Steven was looking directly at himself.

"I brought the blood sample of Sly Cooper. He is incapacitated at the bank. I also received the new Clockwerk hate chip, recently rebuilt and brought in from Paris, France," Said the first Steven to the second.

"You have done well to bring his blood," Said the second Steven who still stood before the window. "I will have Sire go and personally meet the raccoon upon waking. In the mean time, I have news for you. I was listening to the security audiotape of those two idiots who walked right into our cloning chamber. I don't know who they are yet but they know we plan to clone Sly Cooper. It gets worse," He continued, waiting for his doppelganger to finish gawking.

The true version of Steven sighed softly and continued to speak, saying, "They claim that the Hate Chip you currently possess is a fake. I overheard them say that it won't work. I say you scrap the project."

The clone skunk shook his head vehemently. "I've seen this in my dreams. It has to happen; something incredible will take place and the world will change, brother."

The real Steven suggested, "Then test the chip. Build a new one; start from scratch. We'll implicate a fresh new plan in the mean time. There is no rush to build that idiot bird; start from scratch, my creation. Haste makes waste."

"Build your backup-plan clone," said the faux skunk, handing over the envelope. "Here is Sly Cooper's blood. How long will it take you to finish this project?"

"I've developed a new method for which to implicate a new aging process," Said the true sentient being. "I can grow him in adult form and he'll be ready in 30 hours. I don't know if his body will degenerate after a certain amount of time, but it's worth the attempt. Continue to build Clockwerk's body if you must; let them think you don't know that you know about their fake chip. If you're really _this_ _obsessed_ with rebuilding that moron, I leave it to you to accomplish your task. I will release Slick Cooper tomorrow night. He'll recover these stupid artifacts that Sire desires so much. Do you trust Karla and Donovan?"

"They're loyal to me," said the copy skunk. "Donovan is a bit of an enigma, however. I don't know much about his past. Karla, on the other hand, she's quite the prize. I'll have her greet Sly Cooper upon waking, before the Sire can show up. It still boggles me how these two idiots I passed outside could know your plans to clone Sly Cooper."

"I don't know," Steven's real self mused thoughtfully, shaking his head. "I have no idea where they came from. But after reviewing the video footage, the vixen looks like the cop that caused us trouble over Clockwerk in the past. What bothers me is that she's here but the computer says that she's only just checked in through customs upon landing at the Prague International Airport, just minutes ago. Sire wanted me to keep an eye on her because she's proven to be trouble a few years ago. How can she be two places at once?"

"I know not, brother, unless she's a clone like me," Said the reproduction. "Perhaps someone else is capable of such an ersatz."

"No one else has the cloning technology or engineering abilities," Steven assured his cloned half. "We'd already know if she was a clone. No, this is no clone, this vixen may cause trouble. Tomorrow, when Slick Cooper is fully developed, I will send him out to dispatch her as his first job."

The clone version of Steven gave a nod and said, "Very good, my liege. I shall return to the bank. Tell Sire to come and visit Mister Cooper soon. In the mean time, I'll have Karla keep him company."

* * *

A/N: _uh oh! Guess Carmelita never realized that Slick Cooper was made over night and the first time she saw him, he hadn't been in the stasis tube very long. How is that even possible? Maybe there's something we don't know about Steven's cloning technology. Maybe it's something we're going to find out... It should become intense and exciting from here on out but I invite you all to re-read the story so you know where all the characters are located in each scene the first time through, so you know what's happening when their future versions run through and shake things up. _

_Anyway, yAy! _


	22. Karla

A/N: **lol**_…So, originally, I wrote a 3,100 word 'linear note' section for the author's note, today. But then I wrote that feedback review for myself, one that was ridiculously long but not nearly as long as the original A/N I planned to write, here. So yeah, you guys, I summarized everything, put it up in the review section, asking people to take their soap box to the FORUMS and keep the feedbacks for the "hate it / love it, here's why…" notes. Anyhow, I just updated THE CURSE, which has very **few** "drab, plain, amateur" style descriptions. Now it's time to write THIS chapter and of course, I have Chapter 3 of REFLECTIONS OF PEPPY sitting on my Wife's PC, ready to update. At any rate, while this has been a story about CARMELITA so far, I'm starting to realize that a lot of people out there want more SLY action for a little while. I won't put Carmelita on the backburner, but let's face it, people… She's exhausted. I've put the poor girl through metaphorical hell and literal purgatory. She's going to take a little breather for a chapter or two… now, her past-tense doppelganger is still around, so we're also going to reacquaint ourselves with HER. _

_Hehe. Okay, I'll hush now! Let's get back to the action!_

* * *

Chapter 22: "Karla"

**Carmelita Montoya Fox** was once an Inspector for Interpol. It was quite possible she would regain that status in the near future, however she was currently powerless when it came to upholding Law, Order and Justice. Currently, Carmelita Fox was nobody. And right now, she _felt_ like nobody.

The pair found an Elysium for the time being. Their safe house consisted of the upstairs corner of an apartment complex under renovation, two blocks from the square. Bentley was busy planning and Carmelita was, in contrast, bored. Her muzzle rested on the window sill, staring through her reflection, at the clouds rolling in and covering the small white ball in the night sky.

In the background, a radio near Bentley's computer reported a winter storm warning in the near future but it didn't matter: Carmelita couldn't understand the language of the radio DJ. She fluently spoke Spanish, French and English but beyond that, she needed a translator.

Soft brown orbs reflected the rows of street lamps and her nose was pressed up against the cold window glass. Part of her wanted to sleep but after having seen herself murdered in the arms of Sly Cooper, she felt restless. She'd had dreams that hindered her rest for over a week, now. Needless to say, she was scared to death of what her next bout with REM sleep would cause. What if her next nightmare caused her to snap? Could she handle it?

Inspector Fox felt as though her spirit was close to being broken. Her heart was heavy and her mind was weary. She felt drowsy, like she'd taken one too many sinus pills for what should have been a case of mild congestion. Carmelita couldn't function and she felt about two sheets to the wind.

"I've been crunching numbers," Bentley announced from his computer. His voice sounded distant but Carmelita still heard him. Her rhythmic breathing was leaving momentary splotches of fog on the window glass. She breathed out through her nose so that she didn't have to open her mouth; her muzzle still rested on that window's ledge. Bentley continued his explanation.

"So," He said, his eyes flitting over the screen to double check his calculations. "The way I see it, we have to break the pattern and do everything _different_. The more we try to make things stay the same, the more likely it is that we all end up dead, again."

Carmelita would have asked what he suggested as the next course of action but she had a feeling he'd tell her, anyhow. So, she simply kept still, lazily gazing out into the night. She couldn't have been more right: Bentley continued to speak.

"The way I see it," He repeated then paused again. Bentley wheeled over to the plain, fabric sofa where she was resting. He glanced out the window to see if she was looking at something interesting then turned his attention back to her. "We have to rescue Sly right away. I say we do it before he meets with The Sire or Karla Chintzy. The sooner we locate Donovan in the bank, the sooner we can fill him in on everything. He'll be on our side; we already know Karla's alliances. I say we strike as soon as possible and get the team together, where they'll be safe."

Carmelita, not even bothering to lift her chin from the window sill, muttered through half-clinched teeth, "An electric abacus told you all that?"

"Not exactly," Bentley said in a defensive tone. "There are variables that I employ and mathematical formulas that I utilize to equate things into a percentage to conjuncture our success. Every time I run numbers that represent one course of action, I then conversely run numbers to represent our second choice course of action. I take the most successful course of action and make it Plan A. I take the second most successful course of action and make it Plan B. I take the least successful plan of action and avoid that scenario all together."

"Ah." Her reply was simple and designed to acknowledge that she was being spoken to. Bentley frowned. What else could he do? She was practically a zombie from all that had been happening to her in the last few days. It was all adding up; taking its toll on her body and mind. She made a weak attempt at snappy patter as her reply by adding, "So you guesstimate."

"I need your help, rescuing Sly," He said.

"What about the other me?" She grumbled softly, leaving a larger puff of condensation on the window glass.

Bentley glanced around, furtively, as if he was about to let her in on a secret, then told her, "We rescue her, too. Nobody goes into that bank. We get the team together, we explain the situation then we launch a direct assault on that bank, _before_ The Reaper can be called back into action."

"I won't go for it, the other me won't blow up a bank, it's against the law," she said into the window. She made a valid point but the monotone quality of voice with which she worded her statement seemed to suggest as though she didn't care one way or the other. Bentley was trying his best not to grow frustrated. "She'll think I'm an evil clone, working with 'The Cooper Gang.'"

"You thought you saw Slick Cooper as an evil clone," Bentley mused. "Think it could have been the real Sly Cooper from another paradoxical time skew?"

"Nah," Carmelita's reply seemed less than professional. It was completely unlike her in every way. "Black fur with Gray markings. Complete opposite of Sly." Her statements were but broken fragments of a proper sentence structure. She was consumed by her exhaustion.

"I'll have to leave you here," Bentley said.

"Yeah?" Her reply showed that she didn't care one way or the other at this point. She was starving and tired beyond belief.

"Yeah," He repeated. "I'll link up with the Carmelita who is breaking into the bank and explain what's going on to the Bentley on the other end of her head set. Then I'll help her out and we'll rescue Sly successfully and bring him back here. From there, I'll personally tell Donovan Loupe what's going on so we can get him on our team early on. Then we'll take care of Karla Chintzy. I've got a plan for what to do with her, too."

"What's your plan?" Carmelita asked, finally lifting her head. The soft tuft of fur at the base of her neck was exposed through the buttons beneath the collar of her shirt. She looked rough and the dark circles beneath her eyes were deeper than earlier.

"Let's just say, I've got a non-lethal idea to Ice that chick. You'll see," He said, wheeling himself around, to face away from Carmelita. "I want you to sleep. I found some Tylenol PM in with my stuff. It's got the same sleep agent as Unisom and should help you sleep for the next 7 hours. When you wake up, it will be time to act. I hate to drug you so that you can rest, but you'll be worthless without sleep."

Inspector Fox simply sighed. "If I sleep for 7 hours, I sleep through the entire night. Everything happens tonight, Bentley."

"No, a lot happens tonight, the rest happens tomorrow," Bentley replied. "We all die _in forty-eight hours._. I'll need you at your best tomorrow. I left the two pills and a bottle of water on the desk next to my laptop. I'll see you in the morning."

"I don't know why I trust you," She said. "All right, I'll take it. I don't want to die in Sly Cooper's arms. I just want my _job_ back," Carmelita groused softly. She sat up then slid off the sofa and crossed the room. The vixen snatched up the Tylenol PM, picked up the bottle of water and chased the pills down with a quick swig. "Maybe this Tylenol will help my ear feel better, too."

"From where you took a bullet?" Bentley asked. Carmelita nodded in silence. The turtle simply grinned. "If I go to that bank tonight and meet up with your other half then rescue Sly, you'll never actually get shot in your ear. Everything I do tonight will be re-writing history."

"You'll piss of Don Juan," Carmelita mused softly.

"Raul Sergio Poliandro?" Bentley announced in a Spanish accent. He then chuckled and added, "He knows if we don't fix this, we're all going to die. Then this 'devil' character will be reborn, like in the Revelations and stuff. Then _time_ won't matter."

"How do you figure?" Carmelita said, taking another drink of the water.

The tortoise shrugged, wheeling his way over to the door. He paused then thoughtfully told her, "Clockwerk built with the soul of The Devil? Then the revelations happen and paranoid world governments try to solve it by nuking Clockwerk? A nuclear holocaust gives this evil entity its way and the world ends? It's _possible_. It sounds like the crappy plot of a stupid _'B' movie_ but now that we've seen this _nearly_ played out, including the death of my gang? I'm a believer."

"Good luck, I guess." She half-sauntered back to the sofa, sinking down upon it.

Bentley frowned for a moment then asked, "You don't happen to have something on you, in your wallet or something, which I could show to your other half to convince her that I'm telling the truth, do you?"

"Huh?" The vixen just cocked a brow.

Bentley shrugged but continued to explain. "You know, some sort of super secret keepsake that only _you_ would know about so that she knows that I'm telling the truth about you and our situation?"

"I can be sentimental," Carmelita acknowledge, "When it comes to keeping a bottle of wine to the side for the day I tag and bag that raccoon. And I only prefer the same trusty shock pistol that I've used since the day I picked it up for the first time… but I don't keep some super secret heirloom or locket or anything like that. I don't do that kind of crap," She said, laying back on the sofa. She glared up at the ceiling, looking to be in a rather foul mood.

The turtle wasn't defeated yet. "I thought every woman had some sort of special keep sake. Just something I could use to show her… you know," Bentley seemed rather desperate.

"Get over it," Carmelita replied. "Not every woman has a hope chest in her wallet. Not every cop has a special shell casing with a special dent in it, tucked away in their lucky sock, as their ultimate secret possession. Everything that's happened in the last 24 hours has been scientifically and theoretically improbable and so, logically, the Carmelita Fox that _hasn't_ lived through this crap yet? Guess what: She, personally, will _NOT_ believe you. She may go along with it to see Sly rescued but she will NOT trust you completely. Nothing I have can be shown to her just to gain her trust. This isn't a movie or some story book, Bentley. If anything, it'll cause her to trust you less, because she knows you're a thief. Now go and do what you have to do. I'll see you in the morning, like you said." She rolled over on the sofa, burying her face into the backrest. She didn't even want to look at him right now. She felt absolutely foul, at the moment.

Bentley shrugged his shoulders and wheeled his way to the door, opened it and rolled out. He shut the door behind himself and made his way to the building's elevator. He could only hope that the other version of Carmelita would be more responsive and logical about things right now.

* * *

**Carmelita Montoya Fox** wrapped her furry fingertips around the edge of the hole cut in the wall on the third floor of the Bank. She pushed her feet against the ductwork and pushed her body from the register, spilling out onto the floor. Her eyes were level with the round rim of a wheel. That amber gaze lifted, taking in the view of Bentley's wheelchair. Those light mocha irises widened.

Bentley knew what was going on all along. His present-day doppelganger was on the radio, in her ear and for her to be speaking to Bentley then see another Bentley in person was surly a confusing thing for her to grasp. Confusion shined in her eyes and her muzzle parted with a question that lingered at the tip of her tongue but Bentley lifted a hand to stop her.

"Quick, hand me your radio," the tortoise instructed. Having just followed his directions to safely infiltrate the building, she was in no position to question Bentley. She simply thought he was still in Paris. The first thing to cross her mind was that the turtle lied to her and was here all along. She had no idea that such was simply not the case.

Bentley took the radio from her paw and put it to his ear. He then said, "Bentley? This is Bentley, do you read?"

The squeaky, geeky voice on the other end was alarmed. "Who is this and what's going on?"

The future Bentley, who was on location with Carmelita, simply blinked. "Do I really sound that nerdy when I talk?" He muttered to himself.

"Excuse me?" Came the reply on the other end of the line.

The tortoise shook his head and said, "Nevermind that. I'm here with Carmelita. I need for you to get Penelope, pack up your gear and bring it to Prague. You'll locate a beacon transponder by the frequency of Eleven Mark Fifteen. Don't take the train, it will get hijacked if you board it. Locate Murray and the three of you come in the van. Carmelita and I are going to rescue Sly. Don't argue, just do it."

The tortoise on the other end of the radio protested anyhow. "How do I know this isn't a trick?" The nasal voice exclaimed.

"Two words," Bentley told his other self, "Time… Machine. This is an emergency situation to repair a plan that went very wrong. Everyone died except for me and a skewed version of Carmelita. You have no idea what you guys are about to fight or get into, so get your gear and come to Prague. Hurry." With that, Bentley closed the radio communications channel and turned to the past-version of Carmelita Fox. "I have a lot to explain but first, we have to rescue Sly."

"I suppose I can agree with that," She said, coming to her feet. Her paws were lifted, pushing back those thick, indigo tendrils. She was quite the shapely vixen and Bentley could easily understand Sly's physical attraction to her. "How are you here and who were you _really_ just talking to?"

"I'm Bentley from the future. I know that sounds difficult to believe but it's true. Everyone was killed and I have to stop that from happening. A doppelganger of yourself was forced to witness the future murder of Carmelita and Sly Cooper in one another's arms at the talons of Clockwerk. Your dying version was smart enough to use her last breath to tell us how to fix everything… Instead of going back in time _one_ day, she told us to go back in time _again_ nearly one full week."

Carmelita's eyes went cold, expressionless. She looked the turtle over, untrustingly. "So you claim you built a time machine and came back to make sure we all survive; is that what you're telling me?"

"Yes, exactly!" Bentley pointed down the hall, "We've got to rescue Sly before The Sire or Karla Chintzy manages to meet up with him. Then, I have to help Sly to find The Sire and this Donovan Loupe character. The two of them together have to steal a pendant from The Sire."

"Wait a second," Carmelita growled. Her fur was now standing up on her neck and the bushy tail that followed her seemed to puff up. "I came here to rescue Cooper and leave. I'm not here to _steal_ things! I _knew_ you had an ulterior motive!"

"Your future half said you wouldn't trust me," Bentley admitted sourly. "There is only one way to prove to you that I'm here from another time. Raul!" The tortoise called for the temporal guardian that they had met at the Airport.

Raul Poliandro stepped from the gates of time-space, itself, and placed his palm upon Carmelita's shoulder. "¡Buenas noches, ranas y bonita Zorra!"

Carmelita's furry brows furrowed with confusion. "Who in the heck is this creep? And what does he mean by _frogs_?" She asked, speaking in French to Bentley. She did, however, understand the Spanish lexicon very well, being a Latin lady, herself.

"You know," Raul said with a grin, "Frogs! The French political party, foxy lady. I see the group is unidos, si?"

Bentley sighed softly. "Raul, she doesn't believe the way her other half believes because she's not been through everything her other half has been through. Can you, you know, stop time again or something?"

"The Affairs de Estado, you know, they're very ...ah… 'confusion', si?" Raul turned to Carmelita and placed his paws outwards. The canine had lively, beautiful eyes and a kind sort of smile that made any _intelligent_ women back off. She knew he was a flirt and immediately distrusted him. Raul shrugged and then said, "Somebody flip a coin, eh?" Bentley reached into a small compartment of his wheelchair and tossed a single Euro into the air.

Poliandro snapped his fingers and the Euro stopped in mid air. "Your friend here built himself a time machine, Senorita. I told him that it was bad but when I realized where this time line will go? I decided to let him use it." He then turned to Bentley and asked, "And the other Carmelita¿Dónde está ella?"

"She's safe," Bentley asked.

"¿Dónde?" Inquired the canine, seeking to ascertain as to the location of the second time traveler.

"She's exhausted," Bentley explained, shaking his head. "She's seen things that nobody should have to witness. The entire episode is finally getting to her. I gave her something to help her sleep and now I'm going to try and help the past version of Carmelita, standing here, so that none of these things happen to her. Sly needs her in his life and I'd do anything for Sly."

Carmelita simply listened. She didn't know what to say or do. It was sweet to hear that from Bentley but at the same time, she couldn't bring herself to trust either of them. She only knew one thing at this moment: Her job. Finally, she snatched the Euro out of the air and said, "This could be a parlor trick. How can you prove that time has stopped?"

"Mire," Raul said, pointing at Carmelita's wrist. She blinked. He then added, "Su reloj, por favor, Mire; rapido!" She did as she was asked, reaching for her wrist and pulling back her sleeve, only to show him that she had no wristwatch. Raul reached his paw up to slap himself in the forehead. "You have a clock in your cellphone, Senorita?"

The Inspector sneered but did as she was asked, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the cellular telephone. She flipped it open and watched the digital clock. There was no 'second' counter, so she simply watched it as she was asked to do. A minute went by, then another. She waited, to disprove his trick, but the minute never changed forwards. Now she was only partially convinced. "There's no way you can stop time completely," She finally said, closing the cell phone.

"Dios mio, baby!" The Spanish flirt groused. "I'll show you! There's a guard down the hall, we'll take his gun and you can try to shoot me with it, honey! Then, I'll take the bullet out of mid air and hand it to you, yeah?"

Carmelita gritted her teeth, narrowing her gaze in challenge. She turned from the two men and headed down the hallway to find a guard. Sure enough, there were two in the next hallway. Both of them were frozen in time. She approached one of them and waved a paw before his face. It was eerie, seeing the guard unresponsive in such a way. She finally reached to take the gun out of his holster then walked back to where Bentley and Raul Poliandro were waiting.

She checked the chamber then pointed the weapon directly in Raul's face. Bentley cringed but the canine never flinched. She pulled the trigger and the gun fired. But no sooner did it fire, the blast froze in time. She pulled the gun away and yet the frozen flash stayed suspended in midair. A 9mm round was about two feet passed the stationary blast.

Raul plucked the bullet from midair and grinned. "You know, when I release time, this bullet will go flying off in whatever direction it's facing. All the stored momentum and energy is still in this bullet, making it very heavy."

Carmelita blinked. "Heavy?" She asked. Raul handed the round over. She was surprised by the weight. It was actually _heavy_.

Bentley was quick to offer an explanation. "Momentum and inertia and velocity all play factors, Inspector," He began.

"I know how that works, I use them as math variables to do my _job_," She snapped.

Bentley blinked but recovered quickly from her temper outburst and continued. "Because the bullet travels so many hundreds of kilometers per hour, you multiply the weight of the round by the power and velocity. You need so many pounds of force… or thrust, to make something go. That weight becomes part of the object while in motion. I'm sure it's quite heavy."

Carmelita narrowed her gaze again. She still had the bullet in her paw. "Let's just say I wouldn't want to drop this on my foot. Okay, so he can stop time. And he's here because you've shown up from the future or _whatever_. This doesn't mean I trust you… either of you. Let's finish this job and rescue Sly."

Bentley turned his gaze to Raul and asked, "Can you help us with your ability to freeze time? We need the pendant of Willpower from The Sire. Your ability to freeze time will help us to secure it."

"Sorry, Turtle," Raul said, shaking his head. "I can't work like that. It's against policy, you know? Now, I'm gonna restart time's flow again, si? Give the guard his gun back, lady. Letting you have it would be helping in a way that breaks policy. Go on, now."

Carmelita clinched her free paw into a fist then stormed off, down the hall and into the next hallway. Once she was out of Raul's line of sight, she removed the magazine of bullets and popped the other one out of the chamber. She placed the pistol back into the guard's holster then placed the heavy bullet directly in front of a security camera at the corner of the intersection.

Upon her return, she seemed to have a look of smug confidence painted on her muzzle. "Are there any other words of _advice_ for us, Mr. Time Cop?"

"Si! If at first, you don't succeed, skydiving is _not_ for you." The dog tilted his head, looking her over again. Carmelita couldn't help but shutter, shaking her head in distaste. Those extravagant, dark tendrils bounced about on either side of her face, framing her visage in a way that made Raul lick his lips. "Never test the depth of the water with both feet, Senorita."

Carmelita rolled her eyes to his 'sage' advice. Raul then tuned to Bentley and said, "Be careful with The Sire, amigo. He's crafty. It's always darkest before dawn. So, if you're going to steal your neighbor's newspaper, _that's_ the time to do it, you know?" He then turned back to Carmelita. "You're pretty crafty yourself, baby."

"Oh? Is that right?" Inspector Fox said, folding her arms. "How do you figure? It's because I'm a 'fox', right?"

"No, baby," Raul said, prompting her to demand that he stop using that word. Raul simply spoke overtop of her complaint, saying, "You came back with a sly little grin, after putting the gun back in the guard's holster. You probably took all his bullets and did something clever with the frozen one. I should rewind time and stop you from doing it but you know what?"

"What?" Carmelita mumbled.

"You're cute, so I'll let it go just this once," Raul announced. He reached his paw up and cleared away the smoke and flash from the frozen gun blast then disappeared simultaneous to time returning to its normal pace. There was a noise down the hall, where the bullet smashed into the security camera, rendering it useless.

The sound alerted the guard who stepped into the intersection and drew his weapon. He fired the pistol but it clicked on empty. Bentley quickly mashed in a button on his control panel which launched a sleep bomb across the hall. It landed next to the guard and burst into a thin green veil of smoke. By the time the light fog lifted, the guard and his partner were seen on the floor, unconscious.

"Let's move," Bentley said. The two quickly darted off to find Sly.

* * *

**Cooper** was in his cell, but he wasn't alone. When Carmelita and Bentley approached from the back end of the hallway, they were quick to realize that Karla Chintzy was on the scene, waking Sly from his state of unconsciousness. Karla was strikingly beautiful. The purest snow-like fur covered her body with lovely pink markings strategically placed to enhance her prominent feminine curves.

As the tortoise and vulpine officer drew ever closer, they listened in on the conversation. Even in love with Penelope, Bentley couldn't help but look over the other woman as if appreciating a piece of art, simply for what it was: Art. Nothing more.

"Good evening, Monsieur Cooper," Karla said in her dreamy, feminine voice.

Trying to maintain his casual air of indignation, Sly replied, "What happened to your boyfriend? I was just warming up when he got the drop on me."

"Mm," She murmured the sound with a smile. Bentley could see her delicate ears perk a bit then the woman's muzzle tugged further into a grin, offering the raccoon a luxuriant, Cheshire expression. "_Far_ from my boyfriend, I assure you. That one, Donovan Loupe, is an enigma, my boy."

"Boy?" Sly scoffed, "You've got to be in high school, still. So what do they put in the water in your cafeteria?" Cooper tilted his head, trying to keep his eyes from wondering. The girl looked only 14 or 15, easily. The thing is... Bentley and Sly both noted that she was endowed like a busty 25 year old woman on hormone pills.

"You've still not figured it out without your brainy friend," pouted the lush little Felox. Her verdant eyes lowered and that dazzling smile disappeared for a moment, only to return with her fangs bared. The pearly incisors glistened like the whitest ice. "He's of no use, he can't carry out his own plans without the help of those who exceed his own physical limitations," She added.

"Is _that_ so?" Bentley said to her from behind. She whirled about just in time for the turtle to mash several buttons on his wheelchair. The mechanical seat boosted straight up in the air, going into a powerful spin. Both wheels extended from either side of the seat so that the right wheel caught her across her face, hard. She spiraled away from the chair, careening face first into the bars that separated her from Sly Cooper. Karla Chintzy then slumped to the ground, unconscious. Bentley then leaned over an armrest to look her over. "For a cute girl with such a hot _ass_et, you can't even carry out your own plans of seducing Sly Cooper. It must be your… 'Physical Limitations'." He then lifted his head to Sly and offered a cheesy smile. "Hey, pal."

"Weren't you supposed to stay in Paris and make sure that," Sly suddenly paused, looking beyond Bentley to Carmelita, "Well, hello beautiful. Fancy seeing _you_ here. Are you here to rescue me?" He asked of the vixen, batting his eyelashes like the cliché damsel in distress.

Carmelita smirked then glanced down at the unconscious half-breed Felox. She reached for the bars then delivered a swift kick to Karla's hip. "Oh, oops, I didn't see her there. Whoever she is, I already despise her."

"We should have gone on your instincts all along," Bentley mused, shaking his head. "You never liked her and she turned out to be an ardent thorn in our side, later on. She led us to believe she was here to help us so she could get close enough to cause us grief."

"Then let's kill her, now," Carmelita muttered.

"Can't," Said Bentley. "When you finally killed her, she somehow forced you to have an out-of-body experience. You both battled, paw to paw, in Purgatory. It's difficult to say… if she doesn't die, then we never technically find out just how serious this situation really is, but if we do kill her, then you might be taken off guard and she may have the upper hand of combat against you. I say we keep her unconscious for as long as possible."

"How do you plan that?" Carmelita asked.

"I'll let you know when I'm sure that it's the course of action I want to take," Bentley replied. Suddenly, Sly cut into the conversation by waving his paws.

Cooper's voice seemed to show some measure of frustration. "What in the world is going on, here? I've never seen you guys working together and now you guys seem to know every detail and I know nothing. Can someone get me out of here?"

Bentley held up a single finger. "I have an idea. You two stay here. As I recall, I had Carmelita electronically release the lock to this cell in a hallway adjacent to this one. I'll be right back, I've got to insert a virus into the computer terminal, then we'll all get out of here and regroup." With that, Bentley wheeled off, heading down the hallway. This left Sly and Carmelita together for a moment.

"So you came to rescue me, huh?" Cooper asked.

"Against my better judgment," She replied quickly. "But you were abducted. Having done nothing wrong that I am aware of," Carmelita said, looking over her shoulder before continuing, "I felt it was your turn to need Interpol Protection. Anyhow, I'm the only one who can put you behind bars. Perhaps I'm just stubborn that way; I don't know. What about you, ringtail? Are you hurting after losing that rooftop fight with this Donovan character?"

"Just my pride," Sly chuckled politely. "I'd love to finish my bout with him."

"Tough luck," Carmelita said. "His tail belongs to me and I plan to stomp it all over this bank before you get the chance." A small click was heard in the cell gate and Carmelita reached to the bars, pushing it to the side until the gate slid open on its tracks.

"Let's go. I have a wolf's tail to kick," She said.

"Not if I find him first," Sly replied.

"Neither of you will be hurting Donovan," Bentley replied upon his return. "He's a double agent and we need him to survive. We've got to find him then have him help Sly to steal something from The Sire, a guy who is running this show. Once we have the pendant of Will Power, we can get Donovan, Karla and scram. Then, back at the safe house, we can hatch a fresh plan, figure out what to do with Karla and then finish this job. Are you guys ready?" Bentley's rant caused both Sly and Carmelita to face-fault, blinking quickly.

"Actually, there are a lot of players on the field and that always complicates things," Said Carmelita. "We have to get this prisoner somewhere, so she doesn't wake up while we're fighting for our lives, for goodness sake. Let's lock her up somewhere."

"We can't," Bentley said. "She's a supernatural with the ability to teleport herself and small objects anywhere she likes. We have to keep her unconscious."

"How do you propose we keep her unconscious until this is all over?" Carmelita asked, gawking at the turtle.

"I know how I want to keep her out for a long period of time but until that happens," Bentley said, tapping his chin. Just then, he remembered Carmelita back at the safe house and grinned. "We give her a sleeping pill. That buys us a third of a day."

"Where is the safe house, Bentley?" Sly asked.

"Why should you take her?" Carmelita asked, narrowing her eyes.

Sly stepped through the open gate and scooped Karla up, so that the demure, white-furred body was resting over his right shoulder. "I should take her because I'm the fastest one here. I'll give the girl the sleep pills then I'll meet up with you guys, back in the field."

"You'll need to watch her for about an hour," Bentley warned. "Just to make sure that the pill has kicked in. I left the package of them next to my computer on my work bench. The future Carmelita is already asleep by now but she should have a half of a bottle of water sitting around the safe house, somewhere near herself. Find it and use that to get Miss Chintzy to swallow the pill. We're going after Loupe. I'll need you back here to help us obtain a trinket from a powerful lion that happens to be running the show, here. We can't defeat him without this pendant. Currently, it's still around his neck. Sly is the one who stole it the first time around."

With that, the tortoise handed Sly a Binoc-u-com which the raccoon placed into his pants pocket. He carried Karla's unconscious body down the hallway, leaving Bentley and Carmelita to figure out their next course of action. Obtaining his cane from the wall, across from his cell, Sly was as quick as he'd promised he'd be. He found a set of stairs leading to the rooftop then leapt off the top of the building, gracefully.

His action required serious skill. With a cane in one hand and an additional one hundred pounds over his right shoulder, he had to be one with the force of balance. Landing upon a telephone pole, he steadied himself first then leapt forth once more. His feet came into contact with the nearby hood of a car which crumpled beneath the weight.

He stepped off the car and began to walk through a series of back alleys to stay out of sight. He twirled his cane then inverted it, using the hook to pickpocket his own binoc-u-com from his own pocket. "I'm out of the bank, where is it," He said into the radio.

"I've implemented the normal homing beacon into your visor radio. You'll find it," Bentley replied over the radio. "Don't wake Carmelita, she _needs_ the sleep."

"She's with you right?" Sly asked, partially confused.

"Carmelita from the future is at the safe house, sleeping on a sofa. Don't wake her, Sly. I mean it, she needs to sleep through the night," He explained. "All right, we're dealing with Guards, Bentley out." The connection ended. Sly slid his cane through his belt and used his free paw to hold the Binoc-u-com up to his eyes. Once he saw the familiar yellow marker in the visor, he began to head towards it.

The apartment building's back door was pried open, allowing him to step inside with ease. He shut the door behind himself and ascended the stairs to the top floor. Stepping into the apartment with the door that was ajar, Sly glanced around to get his bearings. A worn-looking, half-beaten Carmelita was sleeping on the sofa. She had dry blood on one of her ears and her clothes needed laundering.

At some point in the last hour or two, she'd managed to roll over so that she was facing away from the backrest of the sofa. Sly could see that she had circles beneath her eyes and her headfur was glossy in the dim illumination of the window above her. It was obvious that the poor thing needed a shower and a hot meal.

Sly sat Karla down on a loveseat then went for the sleeping pills on the nearby desk. He located the bottle of water that Carmelita had last used and brought it back to Karla's body. He leaned his cane up against a neighboring wall then sat down on the loveseat next to Chintzy. Using one paw, he gently pried her muzzle open while using his other to place three pills on her velvety pink tongue.

Next, he snatched the bottle of water that he'd placed between his knees, and put it up to her mouth. Careful not to pour too much water into her mouth, so as not to drown her, he then caressed her throat in a downward motion until she instinctively swallowed the water and pills. However, it caused her to stir.

Her eyes fluttered open and she gazed directly into Sly's own chocolate orbs. "What… happened?" She murmured softly, wiping a bit of water away from her muzzle with the backside of her left paw. "Where are we, now?" She asked, beginning to come to her senses. She placed her right paw against Sly's wrist, as if seeking to regain her equilibrium.

"You're our prisoner," Sly said with a shrug. It felt weird to say but it was the truth. "So don't try anything funny. I heard you have the power to teleport yourself, so if you even blink wrong, I'll have to knock your butt out," Sly warned.

"Hmm, you must be mistaken, Karla lied. "My powers are limited to teleporting objects, but not myself. I'm stuck here. You're the Master Thief, Sly Cooper, aren't you?" She asked.

"I didn't know I was famous," Sly replied. He had about an hour before the darn pills kicked in and now he felt bad because he didn't want to knock her out, for some reason. Hitting a pretty girl wasn't very easy, that was for certain. "Why do you ask?"

"You have a family pendant that you use for proposing to a future wife, correct?" Karla was quick to get right to the point. She knew that Sire wanted that large diamond but she didn't know why although she did have speculation on her own part. All she knew is that she wanted the pendant from Sly but now she wanted Sly, too.

"Well, yes," Cooper replied, blinking in confusion. He had no idea how she knew the diamond even existed. "Why do you ask?"

"Because," Karla said in a flirting voice, "If I was a lucky girl, I could get you to simply give it to me," She replied, sliding her right paw to his chest, as they sat together, there on the loveseat.

"Now why would I go and do a thing like that?" Sly chuckled awkwardly.

"Because I only agreed to help these antagonistic supernatural terrorists to get closer to _you_," She said. She only knew that the Diamond that Sire wished to obtain would make it possible for even a Super Natural Being to become fertile. "For some reason, you and your family heirloom give me the shivers," She told him. Before he could reply with another inquiry, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his own soft tiers of velvet. The firm swells of her ample bust pressed against his firm, muscular chest and Sly found himself shocked into silence.

His eyes lowered, looking at where his muzzle connected with hers then he shuttered, feeling her tongue dart into his mouth, deepening the kiss with intense passion. Before Sly could react or break out of his instinctual moment of shock, she slid one leg over his knees and slipped into is lap. Her right paw maneuvered up to his neck, sifting upwards through the tousled gray locks of his hair, pushing his hat off. It fell to the now-empty loveseat cushion, adjacent to them and she began to playfully grind her hips against his own, causing him to freeze.

Her legs had easily encircled his waist while her left paw came to the side of his face, simply caressing and exploring the man she had yearned to flirt with for quite some time. Now all she needed was to seduce him, draw him into the depths of rapture and obtain the diamond pendant his family used to propose.

She shoved her feet into the backrest cushion but kept those milky, toned thighs wrapped tightly around his hips. The push caused them both to slide away from the loveseat until her back met the floor, keeping him flush to her so that he was now on top of her body. Sly didn't plan for this _at all_. Her forwardness continued to shock and confound him, rendering the raccoon inane for the moment. He was, quite simply, stunned beyond belief.

It wasn't that he was or was not aroused. She knew right where to touch and just now to tease and flirt to seize the attention of his body. However, Sly couldn't find it in himself to perform. He didn't have the desire to further this endeavor and did _not_ wish to return the grind of his hips against her body. He simply sat up, staring down at her.

"What?" She asked. Karla's gaze bore up into his. Her deep, emerald eyes were adorned by the longest lashes. Her face was the softest, purest white and reminded the raccoon of a porcelain doll. She glanced over at Carmelita's ashen form on the sofa then said, "You love her, don't you. Look at her: eyes sunken in with deep circles. She looks as though she's been through hell. I don't know the girl but I'm willing to wager, with a scruffy face like that, she might just be trailer trash."

Cooper blinked his eyes, rapidly, "No, she's not. She's just been through a rough few days by the looks of things."

"Sly," Karla said, slipping her left paw down the back of his pants to playfully cup his masculine, muscular rump. His brawny flesh and silky fur was too tempting for her craving paws. Sly shook his head, clearing his senses. None of this felt right. It didn't feel like _love_ and he equated such an act to actual, physical and metaphorical love.

"I can't, not with you. I don't even know you, how can I display affections for a woman I don't love?" Sly supplicated. Karla simply smiled, taking her right paw from behind his ears and reaching down to unbutton the top of her blouse. She then drew his face forward to smother his senses with the plump, perky bosom of her ample breast.

Chintzy licked her lips, imploring him, "And I beseech you, Sly Cooper: How can you resist _me_?"

It only took a moment for Sly to wiggle out from the canyon of fur and flesh, rapidly shaking his head as if he were drying his fur from the rain. He then took his paws and reached towards her bosom. Karla licked her lips in excitement but to her sudden dismay, Sly simply reached for her blouse, buttoning it shut.

"I'm sorry," He told her. "I don't even know you and beyond that, I'm already in love with someone else. This was… uh, nice and everything, but I'm sincerely not interested in a sexual relationship with you, miss."

"Monsieur Cooper, I've crushed on you for more than a simple evening," She explained. "The only reason I allowed myself to be involved in all of this is so that I could become your wife and bare your children," She explained. She didn't go into detail about how his family heirloom had something to do with the fertility ability but she did have some measure of genuineness in her eyes. Still, Sly Cooper wasn't interested.

"I'm already in love with someone whom I have neglected, over the last year. Right now, she probably hates my guts," Sly explained. "However, if there is even a remote possibility I can get Carmelita Fox back into a relationship with me, I'm going to try for it. She's the only face I could see when I thought for sure that I would die in the clutches of Doctor M."

Karla's heart was pounding and those sensitive, pert buds of flesh were clearly visible through the cloth of her blouse. "Mobius was a _fool_," She said, gazing up at the raccoon. "All he wanted was money. All Sire wanted from him was that diamond heirloom. God forbid he would have found it and bequeathed it to Sire. Something like that should be given as a gift to someone who loves you."

"Well, I don't think Carmelita loves me," Sly chuckled. "She's been angry with me since the day I left to follow up on a rumor that Clockwerk was being rebuilt. I couldn't stay with her, as that would endanger her and any attempt of a family that we would have tried to start. She just doesn't understand that I left her, last year, to ensure her _safety_."

"Because you saw your family slain, yes?" Karla gazed up with large, empathetic orbs of dazzling jade.

"I guess my story of revenge against Clockwerk reached more ears than I realized," Sly said, sitting the rest of the way up, once more. "What's your story?"

"It's long and convoluted," Karla said, sounding honest and completely harmless. She lay beneath him, reveling in the weight of his form that knelt over her. She lusted so very deeply for him. She yearned to feel their bodies writhing together in ecstasy but she had a feeling that, for some reason, she would have to take it slow with this man. Perhaps he was a virgin, or perhaps he was just a young Frenchman in love. She wasn't sure, just yet.

Her heart was still pounding from the anticipation of sex, which caused the sleeping pills to rush through her blood stream much more quickly. Her eyelids were now half-way open and a tired smile touched her maw. "You know, I can't give up on a guy like you," She said playfully. "You manage to wear out a girl like me without even hot, hard love making. I just… wish I," She was almost dozing off right there in mid sentence, "…wasn't involved with… the guy who… ordered Clockwerk to steal that diamond in the first place, centuries ago."

"Pardon?" Sly blinked once more, almost glaring at her but she was unable to notice the look on his face. Now she was fighting for consciousness. "What do you mean?" The raccoon demanded.

"Oh you know," She mumbled. Sly leaned down so that his ear was directly in front of her mouth as she spoke. "He and Steven employed Clockwerk as a thief to steal parts necessary to somehow bring some spirit into the physical world, but those parts are… you know, scattered in museums throughout the world, Monsieur. Clockwerk wasn't a good enough thief to obtain those parts himself, and so Sire ordered Clockwerk to steal a diamond from the Cooper Family but _they_ stole it back; and out of anger, Clockwerk terrorized the Cooper Clan for ages, trying to steal their books and kill their family members to learn where their vault was." She was mumbling so very slightly that Sly had to constantly pat her on the side of the face to keep her talking for as long as he could manage.

She continued, slurring her speech. "And Clockwerk became consumed by hate but all Sire asked of him was to get a diamond so they could use it's amazing fertility powers to impregnate a Super Natural with the offspring of a Master Thief, in order to obtain these …uh…" She trailed off, leaving Sly to prompt her into conversation. It was a double-sided sword; had she not been on the sleeping agent, she probably wouldn't have told him anything but now she was dozing off before she could finish her explanation.

"Artifacts from museums throughout the world?" Sly asked, remembering the last time she went through this spiel, seconds earlier.

"Yeah, those, and then the Supernatural Master-Thief child would do as Sire says and… get the stuff and… then he could use the stuff to raise this spirit from the dead, but I don't know why," she whispered softly.

"So these artifacts, when combined, have the power to raise some sort of powerful spirit from the dead, then what?" Sly prodded. She was falling into a deep sleep and becoming far less lucid.

"We obtained a drop of your blood, I bet you'll be just as cute as yourself," She mumbled, changing the subject yet bordering on the realm of incoherency. Sly quirked a brow then patted her cheek again.

"So, these artifacts, when combined, have the power to raise an evil spirit from the dead or something?" Cooper asked, using a thumb to open one of her eyelids. The sleeping agent was a bit more powerful than he realized. Had he known, he'd have given her only one or two but he was too naïve to realize that having her turned on and her heart racing would have caused it to kick in sooner.

Another series of soft patting against her muzzle helped her to continue speaking. "Manipulate the evil spirit to become powerful, but I don't know where the evil spirit is," She said. Little did Sly know that it was attached to Karla's soul; perhaps she, herself, had no knowledge of this, either. All this time, the reason Sire kept Karla Chintzy around was because she was a living reincarnation of a dark force, possessed by the evil spirit that Sire wished to own. There were still gray areas that Sly didn't fully understand but one thing was now known… Sire was the man who ordered Clockwerk to terrorize his family for generations… and worse yet, to kill his family and take the Thievius Raccoonus in an attempt to find the Cooper Vault.

All this time, The Sire was the cause of Sly Cooper's short childhood. All this time, Sly's relationship with his parents was through genealogy and stories of legacy. All this time, The Sire was the reason for Sly's checkered, dramatic past.

For that reason alone, this Sire guy had to pay. Sly buttoned the top button of her blouse, so that it was all nice, neat and matched properly. He then took the woman by the ankles and turned her around. Sly hefted her body up onto the loveseat so that her legs dangled over one side, then he snatched up his cane and approached Carmelita. He knelt down besides the slumbering vixen and kissed her forehead.

"Feel better," he whispered then went for the door. He would have gone out through the window but didn't want to leave it open or expose Carmelita to the night air. Once outside, he called Bentley on the radio. "Hey, Bent. That Karla chick is a total floozy, man. But for some reason, I feel bad for her. I don't know why or what it is… but I _did_ learn something about her employers. I'll explain when I get there. How's it coming with this Donovan guy?"

Bentley's visual popped up on the binoc-u-com once he answered the communicator. "Carmelita is beating him senseless so that he'll actually hear us out. It's more of a burden than I initially thought. Did you learn anything else?"

Sly shrugged, even though the Binoc-u-com couldn't really distinguish the gesture properly. "She said something about my blood making me as cute as myself, but I got this out of her as the sleeping pill was kicking in, she might have just been talking incoherently."

"It could be a reference to your future Clone that Carmelita mentioned," Bentley replied.

"Pardon?" Cooper looked dubious.

"I'll let you know when I have more information. That's a mission objective for tomorrow afternoon, anyhow. Get back to the bank and we'll get this locket of willpower or … whatever it's called… from this Sire guy. It's the only way to beat him and he's got the only pendent."

"Taking jewelry from the bad guys is what I do best," Sly said, closing the channel. He double-timed his efforts, heading back to the bank. "Good lord, that girl was all over me; I feel like I need a shower to wash off the dirt," he said to himself, jogging back towards the bank building.

* * *

A/N: _And may I just add one little thing? People who are critical of most of my work always seem to praise the stories which are my absolute least popular… I somehow doubt that JK Rowling would sell very many Harry Potter books if he didn't win, resorted to killing Ron and had a true, realistic emotional breakdown over Hermione. So, while I appreciate the few people that dislike this story, hey: have an honest respect for O-K-Scott and the people who dispise Carme and Sly romance. As far as Scott? He's a good guy, just misunderstood by a lot of the people that adore Sly and Carmelita romance. As far as Scott is concerned, I consider him a friend, even though I've not kept in contact with him as of late. Oh, and people that dislike where I'm going with this story… hey, I'm not writing it for you guys. I'm writing it for me, my wife, and the people who may potentially purchase my future manuscripts when it's time to finish and publish them. You're looking for "Written by: Kenneth Herbert Weaver Junior" on the front, those'll be the ones. :) _

_No, I'm not trying to be egotistical; I'm just trying to joke around, playfully. _

_Okay, I'll shut up now :D_

_-Kitsy_

_NEXT… _

_CHAPTER 23: "Cooper And …Cooper" _


	23. Cooper and Cooper

A/N: _**Important**: I just can't find the concentration to re-read and proof read this story. I've tried for two days but I can't sit down to it for some reason and I apologize. I've decided to post it anyway so that you guys could finally read what I've done. I had it done on Sunday night and now it's Tuesday night. So, again, I'm sorry! I usually go back through and add all the "detail" and re-word things that I was quickly typing, just to get through a thought. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it; this is raw and as I originally typed it while hurrying through. Love ya, guys!_

Original A/N:

_I originally intended for there to be more Sly Vs Slick Cooper action in this story than I am about to write. However, I had a clever idea, involving this temporal situation and how one Carmelita can affect the future Carmelita that is now passed out on the sofa. It's time for the bad guys to show they mean business, things to happen differently and our heroes to do their best to change time. The ideas I'm getting in my head as I write this Author's Note are creepy and powerful. The sacrifice that one character will make may surprise you. It will be a joy to write this chapter. Muwahaha.

* * *

_

Chapter 23: Cooper and… Cooper?

**Carmelita lay still** in the safe house apartment. Her body ached and she was tired but the first thing she noticed was that her ear no longer hurt. As the sleeping agent finally began to wear off, she found herself waking up, there on the sofa. Her paw shifted, moving groggily to touch her own ear. Suddenly, the vixen's eyes snapped open and she pushed herself to sit up.

Groping at her ear, she was amazed to find that the bullet hole she'd sustained in the Bank a few days ago was no longer in her ear. Her eyes widened in amazement although her pupils were still dilated and her head was still swimming from the effects of sleep. She glanced around for a mirror only to see something nearby that caused her jaw to drop wide open.

There, on the loveseat was Karla Chintzy. The Felox was unconscious, unceremoniously draped over the furniture. Carmelita's curiosity was temporarily forgotten and her calm yet confused demeanor was replaced with immediate hatred and a burning desire for vengeance. Inspector Fox reminded herself that she was in the past, where Karla still existed. Remembering that Karla's death triggered a coma which put both women on an astral plane for personal combat, Carmelita decided that the best course of action would be to defeat Karla in a permanent yet non-lethal way.

Carmelita stood up from the sofa and shook her body hard as if drying off from the rain. Once fully awake, she began pacing to think of a way to destroy Karla Chintzy without actually killing the woman. The vixen, while still fairly tired, was feeling a great deal better now that she'd rested and it didn't take long for an idea to form. She would drag the half-breed whore back to the laboratory and somehow put the Felox into permanent stasis.

Carmelita snatched a bag under the counter, which belonged to Murray and Bentley. She rooted through it for anything she might need. There was a bottle of brand name Cola in it which would serve to help with her dry mouth and quench the parched sensation at the back of her throat. She took a swig of the Cola then capped the plastic bottle and put it into her pocket. Turning back to the slumbering Chintzy, Carmelita's thoughts turned back to her plan, although her Shock Pistol was nowhere in sight.

A grin tugged at the corner of the vulpine officer's muzzle and she knelt down besides Chintzy, prying the other woman's left eyelid open. The half Feline, half Fox female had fully dilated pupils and was completely unresponsive to Carmelita's touch. The Inspector's grin widened when she realized that this endeavor would be easier than originally anticipated. Carmelita took Karla's paws and pulled the half-breed from the loveseat.

The vixen knelt down to one knee, placing her right shoulder against Karla's gut then hoisted the other woman up over her shoulders. Slowly, Inspector Fox stood up until Karla was completely draped over her shoulders. Satisfied, Carmelita went for the door, carrying Karla's unconscious body out into the Prague night air. Carmelita had no delusions of mercy; she wanted to end Karla's existence without ending the woman's life so as to avoid fighting for her soul in the battle drenched fields of purgatory a second time.

What worried Carmelita the most was if Karla died, would it affect her or her present-day doppelganger, out in the field with Sly Cooper? Carmelita didn't want to risk her own safety let alone the form of her other self who was probably busy protecting Cooper who was recovering from a hostage situation. For a moment, Carmelita pondered what would happen if both her and her doppelganger arrived in the astral plane but she quickly decided it was impossible.

If what Karla told her was true, during the first combat in Purgatory, Carmelita's soul was the entity in combat. If that were true then it would be impossible for two Carmelita's to appear together. She let her weary mind wonder over every curiosity during the entire walk to the Laboratory just outside of the city. Karla wasn't heavy and Carmelita was an athletic woman. It only took about an hour to make it out to the large castle on the edge of town, walking briskly with a woman over her shoulder.

Half way there, an evening cop on patrol stopped Carmelita to ascertain the situation but the Inspector had no problems showing her identification card and using hand gestures to explain that her 'friend' was 'drunk' and they didn't want to 'drive' the girl home. Carmelita felt grateful that the cop was understanding and left them alone.

Once they arrived at the castle grounds, Carmelita nudged the main entrance open with her left paw and carried Karla over to the secretary at the desk. Because Karla and the rest of her group were working together, the secretary immediately recognized the busty half-breed, who was unconscious, with her head resting against the Inspector's back and legs dangling to Carmelita's waist.

The ingenious vixen offered a polite smile, nodding to the lady at the desk. "I've brought her back; she fainted from a blow to the head. She doesn't appear to have a concussion," Carmelita lied. The cop then motioned to the elevator and stairs at the other end of the main lobby. "I'm going to drop her off where she'll be safe. Don't worry, I'm…" Carmelita suddenly found herself cut off by the secretary.

"Inspector Carmelita Fox, right?" The girl asked with a soft smile. "I remember; you came to have a look around about 7 hours ago when I first got onto my shift. I'll be leaving in an hour if you have any questions. Miss Chintzy's personal quarters are on the upstairs floor. I suggest taking the elevator, Inspector. Thank you for bringing her back!" The secretary's voice was cheerful and polite. Carmelita had to wonder if the girl knew what her employers were up to then assumed the girl was probably just a temp-office worker of the week or something.

Once in the elevator, Carmelita actually opted for the bottom floor. The small round button lit up beneath her fingernail, which kept the button from obtaining her fingerprint. Those double doors slid open and the laboratory was spread out before her. Carmelita shifted the deadweight on her shoulder then proceeded forward into the Lab.

A stasis chamber was Carmelita Fox's destination. She knew if she could put Karla into suspended animation that the woman would be completely harmless. The lab, however, was quite a maze and simply finding the cryo-stasis tubes wasn't going to be easy. As the Inspector ventured further into the maze of metal walls, constructed of computers and generators, the area grew foggy. A swirl of mist was left in the wake of each footstep and the cloud grew thicker as Carmelita went further onward.

A soft, feminine groan came from Karla who was beginning to wake up. She was still under the influence of the sleeping agent and was completely disoriented. As Carmelita rounded the next corner, the source of the ankle-deep gas became revealed: a waist-high vat of bubbling liquid sat at the end of their path; Carmelita had taken the wrong course in the mechanical maze.

The misty, cool gas poured over the side of the chamber, spilling onto the floor and filling the general area. Carmelita stopped directly in front of the large tub and peered down into it. Her eyes narrowed for a moment but curiosity was getting the better part of her, now. She knelt down and eased Karla's body to the floor then reached into a pocket and pulled out a 10-Euro note.

She dipped only a fraction of the paper note into the liquid then pulled it back out to examine the bill. Carmelita immediately recognized the liquid due to the fact that the legal tender note was frozen. The softly spoken words, "LN2; is this the cooling method for some sort of power supply, maybe? Hmm, N² (_l_)…" escaped her lips in a near whisper. It may have been a clue so she pushed the bill back into her pocket which flaked into shreds at the frozen end.

What she didn't see was Karla struggling to her feet behind the Inspector. Chintzy rubbed at her eyes but wasn't able to think clearly because the sleeping agent was still in her blood. She fought the effects but wasn't able to sober up. Dragging her right foot across the floor in a staggering step, Carmelita whirled around, face to face with Chintzy.

"You're clever," Karla muttered, "But I can't let you throw me into that Liquid Nitrogen."

"Why, throwing you into Liquid Nitrogen was the last thing on my mind, Karla Chintzy," said Carmelita with a smirk. "But now that you mention it, putting your tail in a deep freeze doesn't sound so bad. It sure would make my job easier."

"Do you know what will happen if you kill me?" Karla growled, narrowing her gaze sharply. "I'll make your life hell, Inspector."

"What's wrong, Chintzy? Suddenly can't protect yourself?" Carmelita snapped, placing her paws on her hips. "I thought you had all these fantastic powers of telekinesis and teleportation?"

"I… can't even think straight," Chintzy admitted offhandedly, still looking groggy and confused. "Did you drug me, you flat chested bitch?"

"Listen you little floozy," Carmelita rebutted, closing her paws into fists. "I had no intent to throw you into Liquid Nitrogen but if you're going to give me trouble, I might do just that. And I'm too much muscle to be larger than a 'C' cup, so believe me, I'm not offended."

Karla immediately disappeared, demonstrating that she was still able to use her powers. She reappeared behind Carmelita, wrapping her arms around the vixen's throat. Carmelita doubled over, throwing the half-breed to the ground. Carmelita placed her heel against the other woman's throat, glaring down at her opponent.

"I'm a trained International Officer of the law," Carmelita said in a cool, casual tone. Gazing down at Karla on the floor, Carmelita's thick indigo strands of headfur seemed to frame her face making her appear that much more beautiful and yet intensifying the threatening expression painted on her feminine visage. "If I so-much as shift my weight, I'll break your neck."

"If you kill me, I'll have won," Karla replied with a grin.

"If you're referring to a paw-to-paw combat in Limbo," Carmelita said, leaning down so that their noses nearly touched. Tendrils of sapphire brushed against Karla's jaw and the Inspector's eyes were blazing with passion. In moderation, Karla gazed back up at the vixen, wide-eyed. Carmelita continued, adding, "I've beat you once and I can do it again. Surprise, you big-breasted jezebel, I'm from the future. I've already killed you once and I'm prepared to do it again if I have to. However, you _do_ have the option of going into suspended animation."

"Sly Cooper will be mine, just so you know," Karla replied, tightening both of her paws into fists and reaching for Carmelita's ankle. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't remove the vixen's foot from her throat. "And by the way," Karla added with a smirk. "You won't break my neck." She then blinked from existence once more. Carmelita was off balance for a brief moment, her foot returning to the floor tiles, half buried under the misty gas of the liquid nitrogen.

However, Carmelita was quick to anticipate Karla Chintzy's next move. The Inspector tightened up her arm and thrusted her elbow backwards which caught Karla in the chin. The hard move surprised the Felox, knocking her back. She was nowhere near prepared to have been caught off guard by a clever Carmelita who anticipated Karla's teleportation. Chintzy stumbled for a moment, collapsing back against one of the computer servers adjacent to the vat of Liquid Nitrogen.

In rage, Karla threw her paws upwards and Carmelita found herself teleported directly above the open vat of Liquid Nitrogen. The frozen liquid boiled beneath the Inspector who immediately appeared out of thin air only to fall downwards, towards the container. Carmelita was quick, planting her paws against the rim of the container. Cool gas poured out over her wrists and paws and the nails of her thumbs even went so far as to touching the liquid and freezing.

Carmelita athletically shifted her weight, bounding off of the vat's rim and gracefully she landed on her feet, staring at Karla as if her very scowl could burn a hole through Karla's body. "Nice try but you'll have to do better than that. I actually had a good 7 hours of rest," Carmelita boasted, drawing back her right fist.

Karla telegraphed her next move, ready to dodge the punch, shifting her weight to her other foot. Carmelita anticipated it and suddenly executed a roundhouse instead. The kick caught Karla by surprise, knocking the woman to the ground with ease. Inspector Fox was graceful in her maneuver, dropping back to her feet with her fists raised. "You fight like an idiot," Carmelita said with an egotistical grin.

"I'm tired, dammit," Karla groused. She threw her right fist forward while drawing her left paw back, forcing Carmelita to be telekinetically drawn forward receiving Karla's right hook across the vixen's jaw. The Inspector winced, gracefully moving with the attack so that the punch glanced off of her muzzle instead of taking the force head on.

Karla then pushed both of her paws forward causing Carmelita's body to lift up rapidly. The vixen could see her shirt billowing up with air as she sailed into a row of computers, nearby. The abrupt stop dazed Carmelita and she found herself slinking down the silvery bulkhead, crumpling to her knees. Her feet tucked up beneath the base of her tail which was wrapped half-way around her waist, unkempt and disheveled.

The Inspector leaned forward, onto her forepaws, shaking off the disorientation. After a quick shake of her head and a tight blink of her eyes, Carmelita Fox clamored to her feet and began to approach Karla again. "Still sleepy or is that just the best you can do?" She asked, putting on a front of fortitude.

"I don't believe you're from the future," Karla grumbled, approaching Carmelita as well. Once the two women were just beyond arm's length away from one another, they began to circle, strafing their adversary. "I think you're just a smart, perceptive annoyance whose natural abilities got her into more trouble than she can handle."

"I don't really think you're immortal," Carmelita retorted. "I think you're just a soulless cloned body programmed with memories and possessed by a trouble making psychotic poltergeist. I wouldn't believe in that sort of crap but I've already fought you in the spirit world once, so I know you're a real-deal freak."

"Of course I'm immortal! I'm as ancient as Steven or Sire!" Karla snapped, throwing her paws outwards again. Carmelita soared back into the wall of CRAY XT3 cabinets, each 80 inches high. Running perpendicular to the vat of Liquid Nitrogen, these machines were black with red sections at the center of each machine. At the corner, they were cattycorner to the sleeker gray machines which were now dented from Carmelita's last flight at the mercy of Karla Chintzy.

The Felox placed a paw against the dent in one of the silver machines and said, "They call this one Riken's MDGrape-3. It's the fastest supercomputer that Nine Million dollars can purchase and ranks as one of the fastest in the world; three times faster than the previous record holder. It's from these machines that Slick Cooper has been created."

"Yeah?" Carmelita said, tilting her head. "And you know what this one does?" She asked, pointing at one of the black and red CRAY computers on the facing 'wall'.

"Oh, since you know _so_ much about this laboratory, please… do tell," Karla replied, blinking away exhaustion from her eyes in an attempt to seem better than her adversary. Her tone radiated self confidence and ego.

Carmelita somersaulted over the half-breed's head, spun about and grabbed the woman by her neck. She then shifted her weight hard and forced her legs to carry both of them in a sprint, slamming Karla's face into the black and red panel of the CRAY. Carmelita pushed her palm into the back of Karla's neck, mashing her face against the stainless steel exterior casing.

The Inspector leaned forward, so that her lips brushed against Chintzy's ear and whispered, "They hurt when you hit them, that's what." Carmelita paused then brought her knee upwards, slamming Karla right in the kidney. The Felox slumped down, laying flat on the floor, half buried beneath the gaseous Nitrogen. The mist rolled over her and what _was_ visible didn't seem to move very much.

Carmelita placed her paws up against one of the walls of computers, placing her head between her elbows. She needed to take a moment to regain composure after such a fight. Once Carmelita felt her equilibrium completely return, she turned back to Karla's body and reached for it. "C'mon, you. It's time to have a nice, long sleep in one of those stasis tubes. As soon as I find one, around the corner, you can sleep off that grogginess."

No sooner did Carmelita wrap her paws around Karla's shirt collar, the busty adversary teleported. Carmelita paused, standing up straight and glancing about herself. There was no sign of Karla. The Inspector peered around the next corner, back down a cloudy hallway then turned her attention back towards the Liquid Nitrogen. "Why in the hell would they have an open vat of this stuff sitting, unexposed, anyhow? It doesn't make any damn sense; it'll just evaporate in this room."

"Why not take a closer look!" Karla suddenly screeched from behind. The Felox placed both of her paws on the back of Carmelita's head, trying to force the vixen's face into the Liquid Nitrogen container. "I want you to find out for yourself, why it's here, Carmelita Fox!" Karla cried, pushing hard against Carmelita's resisting head.

Inspector Fox's nose was so close to the bubbling liquid that she couldn't see to the end of her muzzle from the steam-like cloud that was pouring off of the Nitrogen. An exhaled breath through her nose caused the vapor to part for only a brief second, giving Carmelita a good look at the freezing cold, boiling liquid.

Karla gnashed her teeth angrily, attempting to force Carmelita's face into the liquid that would ensure an instant, frozen death. "See you in hell, Inspector Fox! I'll have Sly Cooper send my regards when I kill him too, after I'm pregnant with his offspring!"

"He's…" Carmelita suddenly belted out, reaching her paws back to grab Karla's waistband. The Inspector ducked her face away from the vat, taking a quick step backwards, then she brought her arms back, up over her head, lifting the surprised Karla Chintzy into the hair, above the vixen's head. "MINE!" Carmelita shouted, forcing Karla up and back down, slamming the busty feline half-breed into the entire vat of Liquid Nitrogen.

Karla's scream was abruptly cut off in mid-bellow. Carmelita quickly turned away from the container, cursing under her breath in a rather un-ladylike manner. She then muttered, "You weren't suppose to die; I really hope you remain frozen in a suspended animation or whatever. Dammit. I'm not pulling your tail out of there and sticking it into a chamber; you'll shatter and… Carmelita balled her paws into fists once more. "Dammit!" She groused.

Two sets of footfalls could be heard running through the hallway of machinery. Carmelita's eyes narrowed and her ears perked up. She could tell that they were heading that way but she wasn't armed with a shock pistol. The vixen patted her pockets to check for anything that might be useful in fighting but all she had was the bottle of Cola in her pocket.

Carmelita blinked twice, remembering a few years ago when there was an explosion in the precinct laboratory involving Cola and Liquid Nitrogen. She quickly turned back to the vat which held the frozen Karla and filled the bottle one third of the way with Liquid Nitrogen and replaced the cap. She placed the bottle on the floor which was already beginning to swell and turned her attention to the corner, hiding behind it.

The footsteps drew closer. Peering around the corner, she saw two men round the corner, armed with high caliber handguns. As soon as they were close enough, she snatched the swelling bottle off of the floor and turned about, stepping into their path. She dashed forward, bowling both men over by ducking low and plowing through, just beneath their center of gravity.

Once both men were on their backs, she took the coke bottle and set it on the floor between both men, so that it was hidden in the rolling cloud that covered the ground. Quickly sprinting down the corridor of metal, 80 inches tall on all sides, Carmelita bolted to get as much distance between them and her as possible. Once she felt she was far enough away, she glanced over her shoulder, seeing the men only starting to sit up. Carmelita then dove to the floor tiles, wanting to stay as low as possible. Landing on her bosom, she swallowed the yelp of pain, quickly covering her head with her paws.

The swelling bottle exploded, impaling what was left of both guards with sharp shards of plastic. Positive that they were dead, Carmelita reluctantly turned back towards the remains. It took a moment but she talked herself into going back so that she could retrieve their weapons. So far, nothing involving Karla Chintzy was happening to her. Once she procured the weapons, she checked the ammunition then placed each weapon into her front pants pockets.

Turning away from the grisly, macabre scene, Carmelita went back the way she'd come, to find another direction through the lab. A wrong turn led her to something other than an exit, however. She now found herself directly in front of Slick Cooper and two adjacent cryo-stasis tubes. "Dammit," She snapped, narrowing her eyes. "Why couldn't I have found this earlier?"

After a shake of her head, she pulled out both of the guns and leveled the sights on Slick Cooper, the clone that was miraculously created in only one night. She cocked both hammers and barred her teeth aggressively. "It's time to die before it's even time to wake up," she said, using her thumb to check both weapons for their safety. Neither safety was in use. Her fingers reached for the triggers, caressing the slender, curved steel objects.

"It's going to be a pleasure to…" Carmelita's words suddenly ceased and she tried to gasp for breath. Her eyes widened and her pupils dilated. The last thing she heard was the cold clattering noise of two handguns falling to the ground on either side of her head as she collapsed to the floor. Silence…

* * *

_"**You were right** about me," came a sweet feminine voice. Carmelita opened her eyes, gazing at the rusty dirt that surrounded her. The smell of ashes and death filled the air and her eyes stung from the dusty clay earth. Purgatory. "You were right about the time travel," Said the woman. "I can sense that your soul has been here once already. Every time your soul passes through Limbo, it leaves such a stain on your wraithly core that I can now see that this is your second visit." _

_Carmelita eased up on her elbows slowly, using the backside of her right paw to rub at her eyes. "I guess time doesn't specify who visits but, specifically, **who** kills you," The Inspector surmised aloud. _

_"Very astute," Karla said, placing her foot on Carmelita's shoulder, pushing the vixen back into the dusty red clay. "So I take it you already know the rules and the reason you're here." _

_"You want my body and just like last time, you're not going to have it," Carmelita said. "You're tired and I've already seen the outcome of this fight." _

_"No my dear," Karla replied in an airy tone. She knelt down, still perched upon Carmelita's shoulder. "You see, I'm dead. That body was drugged with a sleeping agent and I am no longer in a mortal body. But you, Carmelita Fox? You were not only mentally and physically worn… you were spiritually and emotionally drained as well. You cannot defeat me; you're heart and mind were as tired as your body." _

_"I've not lost my will to fight," Carmelita said, coming to her feet. She lifted her paws and grimaced at the pain that lanced through her spiritual form. However, she knew that she had to fight for her very existence. Karla smiled; her eyes were afire with a passionate hatred and an incredible evil. Carmelita may have shuttered by such a sight in the past but now she was resolved with the knowledge that she'd beat this wretch before and the confidence that she would indeed triumph once more. _

_Karla drew her free foot back and used it to kick Carmelita across the muzzle, hard. Carmelita was still pinned by the shoulder and struggled to wiggle free of the demon's powerful force. Finally, Carmelita, still dazed by the blow, instinctively wrapped her jaws around the demonic being's ankle. She locked her jaw as tightly as she could, rending through flesh and clamping at the bone. _

_Her animal instincts stayed with her soul, even beyond the physical realm. She clinched her paws and curled her toes, squinting her eyes tightly. Her entire body tensed and she only knew one thing… to hold her jaws as tightly as possible around Karla's ankle. The powerful bite worked and Karla released a gut-wrenching cry of agonizing pain. She curled her clawed, gnarled paws into fists and began to strike at Carmelita's forehead but nothing could sway the vixen from responding like a caged beast. _

_The demon drew in a deep breath before belting out a violent wail of voice. "Tell me: Do you know what spirit pain is, Carmelita?" Karla screamed at the top of her lungs. Her booming voice was no longer that of the sweet, busty vision of fur but that of a scaly looking monster. "I'll show you!" She roared, lifting her left fist then plunging it down into Carmelita's rib, where she'd been shot once in Bombay, years ago. _

_The bullet wound opened up as a reminder of something given to her during her first encounter with MUGGSHOT. It was only a few years ago but she remembered it like it had only just happened, especially when Karla opened that wound with but a mere touch. Who interfered with her take down? Sly Cooper of course. But now that she was reliving that painful moment in time, she saw things differently. She saw the complete picture from a different angle. Sly didn't come to interfere… no, he came to distract Muggshot so she could live another day… The felon may have escaped but Sly Cooper only stepped in to ensure that she would live. For the first time, she now saw with an un-blind eye. _

_Finally able to place her sensation of shock in front of the pain to dull it out, Chintzy swallowed for air again, in a moment of repose. Karla's next words and pitch suggested a sarcastic statement. "This is quite the little minutiae trench you've dug for yourself, Fox," she chided with dark tones. "How're you going to escape, mortal?" Carmelita's wound began to bleed, further draining her spiritually and emotionally. With every ounce of blood that seeped from her broken body, she felt closer to death. Her willpower wavered and she felt weak, releasing Karla's ankle from her jaw. Her body felt as weary as it did before she last slept. _

_"Can you feel it?" Karla roared triumphantly. "You're going to experience death! Not just limbo but Heaven or Hell! Do you even believe in it, Carmelita Fox?" The demon screeched. "You will not survive this night! You will experience what an eternity of damnation is like! For those foolish enough to reverse time, the punishment is infinite! Your trivial existence is about to end! Everything you thought, said, remembered and achieved is about to end! It will be without meaning to any! Your death at my paws will mean that your flagrant end is at hand! Know… that I …am…!" Karla's words were cut off by means of a blatant interruption._

_"Shut up!" Carmelita hollered in anger. She leapt to her feet, reaching her paws back and thrusting them forward. Karla stumbled backwards, but didn't lose her footing. The astral form of Carmelita Fox launched forth, her palms gained purchase on Karla's throat, quickly using all of her inner ire to crush the demon's windpipe. The angrier she became, the more she inadvertently drained her spiritual health. Carmelita allowed herself to be filled completely and totally with pure rage but she couldn't seem to make it last. _

_Before long, Karla's trick had worked and Carmelita had exhausted herself completely and totally. Trembling like a leaf, the vixen struggled to even stand much longer. Her grip around Karla's throat had loosened; Carmelita's body suddenly lacked the will to keep up with her own fiery temper and heart. _

_Collapsing to the dust, Carmelita couldn't even find the strength to move and it angered her. "I cannot be beaten," The fading vixen moaned softly. "Why can't I move? You've somehow managed to cheat," She said in a weak yet accusing voice. _

_"You've defeated yourself," Karla gloated, adding, "By killing me when you were exhausted… drained of your emotional health… your sense of spirit has crashed from mental exhaustion. You've not been a health woman in some time, Carmelita Fox. Your wellness has deteriorated!" _

_"I love Sly Cooper," Carmelita cried. Her exhaustion caused her words to come out sounding more like a pitiful moan. She always thought that the power of love was so potent that it could destroy all evil but today, she was wrong. Nothing happened. Her confession was soiled and sullied by the power of Karla, who simply lifted her knee, bringing Inspector Fox back to the dust. _

_"It won't work," Karla replied. "You don't possess the inner strength to wield that sort of power over me. You've played your cards in the wrong order, sweetheart. It's time to experience death." _

_"You're a pathetic excuse for a woman," Carmelita muttered. _

_"You have fire. I can respect a woman who will attempt to mock me with her final words. Farewell, Carmelita Fox!" Karla reached down, wrapping her gnarled hands about the vixen's head, cupping gently, just beneath the Inspector's mandible. With a quick snap of her wrists, Carmelita Fox's soul was extinguished, with a sharp cracking noise. The sickly sound reverberated off of the void existence that surrounded them. Carmelita Fox was dead._

_

* * *

_

**Carmelita sat up**, holding two guns and facing the cryo-chamber of Slick Cooper. She struggled for a moment to remember everything that happened up to this point then blinked. Her last physical memory was pointing her weapons at the stasis chamber holding Cooper's Clone.

Slowly, the Inspector rose to her feet and lifted the weapons once more. She trained them carefully upon her target and fired. The double braced hinges of the stasis chamber were eradicated and water began to gush from the glass tube. Replacing the weapons inside of her front pockets, Carmelita approached the holding container and pulled the door free from his body.

The nude raccoon clone sank from his holding cell and into her arms. Carmelita took a moment to pry the breathing tube from his muzzle then used her thumbs to tenderly clear the liquid from his eyes, kissing his forehead softly. "Ah, my love… Our offspring will usher in a new era; one that shall defile peace and make lewd that which is pure. You're safe now, my young Angel. Karla Chintzy has you… mm, no, better yet my love… you can call me… _Carmelita Fox_!" Soft, silvery peels of laughter rolled off of her velvety tongue. Inspector Fox was no longer herself. Now, the monstrous demon possessed her body, making it her own.

* * *

**Sly Cooper closed his paws around a metallic cord** and clinched his teeth tighter over the fulcrum of his cane. At two stories high, he was looking down on the massive parts of a brand new Clockwerk body. Beneath him, Steven the skunk and The Sire, a beautiful, boyish-faced lion, stood side by side in conversation. It was strange; Sly's eyes kept going from Clockwerk to the lion.

One thing was for sure, he'd never seen a male lion that looked so much like a lioness and yet was so beautiful to behold by _any_ gender. It made the raccoon feel that much dirtier, especially after his short bout with the flirty Karla Chintzy, earlier. There was only one thing that bothered him, right now: After waiting in this statue-like position for nearly 5 hours, Sly was beyond boredom.

Bentley warned that the lion had the power to make almost anyone do his bidding without the Pendant of Willpower, located on Sire's neck. The problem, as it stood, was the fact that Sly couldn't do much with those two staying together. He was growing frustrated and every time Sire left the room, he had to wait for the man to come back. All he wanted was for this Steven Skunk guy to leave for a bathroom break but that wasn't happening for some strange reason.

"You're really not worried that Sly Cooper is out there and Karla is missing?" The voice came from one of them but Sly wasn't sure which, just yet. The Skunk went on to add, "As far as I'm concerned, your lack of preparation vexes me, dammit."

Sire folded his arms. The lion simply shrugged then replied, "Is that your official thought as a Clone? You know that your natural-born half doesn't agree with rebuilding Clockwerk, yes? And yet, you feel it's the best solution to our problem… I'm here because I'm supporting _you_. Your natural-born half is in his stupid Laboratory, back in that stupid Castle. It amazes me: Someone's going to realize that the Castle is drawing enough power to run a small city; surely someone with his intelligence would know that and find a way to carry out his work somewhere else."

The skunk tittered over his workbench with an eager attitude. "He explains that he's personally frustrated by multiple failures concerning Clockwerk but a modern reiteration would be a glorious success! Know you that such shall be perfect, yes?"

"Yes, Steven," said the Sire. "Your creation will be perfect. Keep an eye out for the Raccoon. Also, if you see Karla, let me know. When we're finished with Clockwerk, she'll become the star of the show."

"As you wish," replied the skunk. "I'm quite curious where the woman is, myself. She's … fun to look at." As if on cue, the double doors at the end of the room were thrown open and Carmelita Fox sauntered into the room. Both Sire and Steven whirled about to look at her but she lifted her paws and smiled darkly.

"I'm back boys. It's me; like the change?" She asked, giving a shake of her hips and a flick of her thick brush. "There's been a change of plans. I woke Slick Cooper ahead of schedule. After all, he's already finished complete formation and his brain and muscular status are fully functional and at one hundred percent completion."

"Inspector Fox!" Sire snapped, narrowing his eyes.

"No, you fool," Carmelita groaned. "Carmelita Fox is _dead_. She killed me in the Castle Laboratory so I crushed her soul and took her body. I could have Sly Cooper now, if I wanted, but we still need your precious stone of fertility, Sire."

"Indeed," the lion replied, looking her over for a moment. "And what of your powers? Did they transfer as well?" He asked, looking to verify that the woman was speaking the truth. Ready and willing to prove herself, Carmelita lifted her paws, causing several tools on the workbench to levitate. Obviously now satisfied, The Sire approached her and raked his eyes over her form. "Does this new body agree with you?"

The woman shrugged then told them, "It's weary but her reflex time surpasses my last body. Perhaps because I relied on Telekinesis to dodge or fight, I don't know… but she's quick. I rather enjoy it, although she's not as endowed as I was but it feels a bit better on my back. I've not had a "C" cup since I was a teenager."

Steven and Sire turned to one another for a brief moment then Steven smirked. The skunk shrugged and said, "You've never been a teenager, Karla. Surly you must have known that much."

"What're you babbling about, Steven? I _was_ a teenager, a short few hundred years ago." Carmelita's eyes narrowed, her body possessed by the Felox, Karla Chintzy. "You're saying that I'm a clone like you?"

"Your mind was programmed with memories like mine. I was a test; you were the second attempt and came out flawlessly. We gave you larger breasts so that you could be more appealing and we changed your frame just a bit, until you were perfect. We wanted you to be able to do your job of seducing Sly Cooper without a problem… and now you've been killed? Who was the bigger idiot? Was it you or _us_ for trusting that you could do your job?"

"I procured the body of the very woman he loves," Carmelita snapped, narrowing her eyes. "He would do anything for Carmelita as he loves her completely and totally. His adoration is stronger than any could have realized and he would even give his own life for her… but now we have Slick Cooper, from his DNA, and I will bare the child when we retrieve the Diamond from Cooper's Vault. We'll keep Sly Cooper alive until I can obtain the diamond for an engagement. He'll _give_ it to me, making us _betrothed_. I'll simply kill him and we'll make Slick Cooper the donor of the Cooper bloodline. He cannot resist the woman who owned this body and now he will not be able to resist _me_." Karla's new body was proof that Carmelita Fox, as Sly knew her, was dead.

Sly, who was still up in the rafters, released one paw from the cable to pull the cane free from his teeth. "Bentley," Sly whispered quietly, "Are you hearing this conversation over the channel? What'll we do? It looks like your plan backfired and now Carmelita dies in the future…!" He hissed softly into the radio receiver.

Bentley was quick to reply, directly into Sly's earpiece. "You've got to get that Willpower Pendant. If we're smart about this, we can stop Karla from doing this to Carmelita's body. We have to finish the mission else this _will_ become Carmelita's future. Do whatever you must but you have to get that pendant and time is running out; they'll finish Clockwerk if you don't hurry."

"Understood," Sly said. He immediately released the cable up near the ceiling and stretched his body during the descent. At the last possible second, he swung the cane in mid air, catching The Sire across the back of his head. The clever attack simultaneously pulled the pendant from the Sire's neck as Cooper gracefully landed on his feet. The stunned skunk to his right went for a weapon on the table but Cooper was quick.

A sudden roundhouse caught the clone of Steven across his face, knocking him back against the wall. On the end of the cane, the Pendant of Willpower dangled from the hook and just to make sure the lion was completely unconscious, Sly kicked him across the face. He then turned his attention to Carmelita and frowned… it was the woman he loved and he couldn't bring himself to attack her.

Cooper was heartbroken and torn. "You'll never get my family's Diamond, Karla. I almost trusted you for a split second, back at the Safe House but I was wrong," Sly said, narrowing his eyes. "There's nothing you can do to learn of its location, either. You've taken the one pure thing from my life and I'll make sure that the rest of your days are nothing more than living hell so you can get ready to experience it first hand."

"Bold words, Raccoon," Carmelita announced, pronouncing her words in the same dialect and tone that Karla would have used. "But between Slick and Myself, we'll beat it out of you."

"He's inexperienced and you're a fool," Sly said, stashing the pendant in his own free fist, where he knew her powers couldn't retrieve it. "You'll never get it."

"If you don't, we'll take the other Carmelita Fox as well. Then you'll have no choice," The possessed vixen announced. "But you won't defeat Slick Cooper. He's been genetically engineered to be far superior and he'll invent his own moves instantly so his inexperience won't hinder him. Simply hand it over. You're in way over your head, boy."

"Your body was just a clone," Sly reasoned. "They deceived you once and they'll do it again. Why are you helping them to achieve some sort of insane new future? Don't you realize that you're only hurting yourself? Do you really want to sacrifice your own offspring to become their master-thief pawn? Do you want them to rob your child of its childhood? Do you want them to throw you away when you're no longer of any use?"

"Shut up!" Carmelita barked, raising her paws. Having been warned by Bentley on her abilities, he knew what it meant when her paws were lifted in such a way. At any moment, she would make use of her powers and he would be in even more trouble. Before she could react further, Sly dove forward. He recalled the art of slowing down time itself, a Master Thief maneuver passed down from the Thievius Raccoonus, itself.

Slowly, her furry fingers began to part, spreading her paw outward. Sly kept his eye on her as he continued the forward dive. Carmelita's eyes narrowed slightly and her jaw tightened. At all the same time, a talon of the new Clockwerk began to launch forth, airborne. Cooper saw it coming and was able to anticipate its trajectory. Halfway through the slow motion dive, he pushed his cane downwards and thrust it into the floor tiles.

His body ascended, bouncing off the cane and kicking his legs over his head. The somersault narrowly avoided the scythe-like talon, which passed beneath his body harmlessly. As the raccoon came out of the somersault, heels over his head, he arched his back and put his cane out before him. Once he landed the maneuver, he began a forward sprint, releasing the time-crawling sensation that was really a mental trick involving intense concentration.

The cane struck Carmelita in a way that was harmless but threw her off balance. His sprint carried him through the doors and out into the hallway. Not prepared for further confrontation, Sly was suddenly surprised to slam head first into Slick Cooper. The black-furred being with gray stripes was quick to slam Sly onto the ground, causing the cane to clatter across the floor.

He began to return to his feet only to find his body suddenly lifted by a strong pair of paws. His body ascended quickly into the air only to find himself airborne yet again. Attempting to change his own trajectory, Sly kicked his legs out again in attempt to put them against the incoming wall but he wasn't quick enough. The stunned raccoon hit the wall with his back, sliding down to the floor, upon his head.

Slick, looking rather inverted, approached Sly with a smirk. The real Cooper wasn't yet defeated, however. He shoved the pendant of Willpower into his pants then pushed his paws into the floor and flipped upwards, over his adversary. As Slick whirled around, Sly threw his right leg out, kicking the clone across the face. Sly didn't land his kick, as it was an off-balance maneuver, but the kick was hard enough to daze his opponent.

Carmelita came through the doorway, watching the two men fight in brutal physical combat. Slick regained his senses quickly and ran towards the nearest wall. He placed his foot out, bounding off of the bulkhead, pushing himself backwards. His momentum carried his body back towards Sly, who was bowled to the ground.

Sly kicked his leg out, catching the Cane lying on the floor. He then kicked his foot upwards, sending the cane into the air and executed a graceful kippup, landing on his feet. He raised his right paw and snatched the cane from the air then shifted his weight and swung for Slick's face.

While young, the clone was an instinctual master, dodging his head back and kicking the cane out of Sly's paw, only to retrieve it into his own. He spun about then used the built up energy to swing the cane back at Sly. The experienced Cooper, having lived with that Cane for years, was quick to jump over the weapon, placing his paws into the floor and going into a roll. He stopped directly in front of Slick, kicking the other Raccoon in the gut and swiping his cane back with a fluid, unnatural ease.

Slick was beginning to grow frustrated. The clone snatched Sly by his collar and slammed him into the nearest wall with all the force and weight he could muster. It was evident that this clone was genetically engineered to be faster and stronger than Sly. It was also obvious that his instincts were well tuned to make him an incredible adversary without even reading the Thievius Raccoonus.

Sly knew that his family's lifetime of lessons would be all that made the two of them different. All of his Master Thieving secrets would be needed to outperform and outmaneuver this… Super Cooper beast. There were footsteps at the end of the hall and two guards rushed towards them, guns drawn. Slick, wanting for this to be a private fight, leapt upwards, bounding off the wall again and landed his feet on one of the guard's shoulders. With a shift of his weight, he used his ankles to snap the neck of the first guard.

Before the man could even spill to the floor, Slick somersaulted off of that man's shoulders and wrapped his paws, in mid air, around the other guard's head, bringing that guard to the same fate. The sickening snap caused even Carmelita to shutter, remembering that she had performed the motions to her adversary in Purgatory. Slick, however, killed twice without even flinching. His display of mercy was completely non existent. Landing on his feet, he once again faced Sly Cooper, smirking.

"You'll never be me," Sly said, twirling his cane.

"He's not supposed to be," Carmelita said. "He's better, faster and stronger. But he's still going to give me the DNA of a Master Thief which is all I need to complete my mission and bring myself closer to perfection… just imagine it, Sly! A supernatural with the ability to breed. I'll be a goddess!"

"You're a fool," Sly told her, shaking his head. "A fool who is going to be used by those idiots you work for. You're a fool who is going to be sacrificing her children and a fool because you'll not be any closer to motherhood than you already are."

"Slick," Carmelita shouted, "Show him what happens when he doesn't properly respect your new mate!" Almost immediately, the inverse-colored raccoon charged Sly Cooper. Sly quickly leapt over the charging animal and his feet easily cleared the clone. However, Sly didn't account for such a clever opponent and was caught by surprise as well as caught by his tail. Slick snatched Sly's tail in midair and pulled the natural-born adversary down, slamming Sly into the floor.

More footsteps were heard down the hallway. Slick glanced up, anticipating another guard only to look surprised when another Carmelita Fox rounded the corner. She had her shock pistol drawn and fired off two shots. Still stunned by the fact that he was now looking at two Carmelita Fox's, Slick found himself stunned by the powerful shock pistol blast. His body lurched away from Sly, slamming against the wall.

Carmelita, who had heard everything on the radio about someone taking over her future body, charged her doppelganger, and attacked. Sly began to pick himself up from the floor, lifting his head just in time to see both vixens locked in combat. One Inspector raised her paws and pushed them outwards causing the other to fly across the hallway.

The other recovered quickly and fired off her shock pistol but the weary looking Carmelita used telekinesis to cause those glowing energy rounds to harmlessly hit the ceiling and floor. The present-day Carmelita charged her other half who teleported behind her adversary. The Inspector whirled around, delivering a roundhouse to the possessed body inhabited by Karla. Their intense combat continued, making it difficult to tell them apart at times.

The first Carmelita waved her paw causing the weapon to fly out of the other vixen's paw. It skittered across the floor, landing in front of Sly Cooper. He quickly snatched it up and turned the power knob to 'full'. Standing up, he aimed the weapon at Slick Cooper and fired twice. He then turned the pistol onto the combative vixens. It was simply too difficult to tell anymore while they were in motion.

If he could get them to come to a stop, he could see which one of them needed their clothes laundered and had bags under her eyes but while they were fighting, it was nearly impossible to tell. "Will you two stand still?" He shouted, keeping the gun trained on them both. Suddenly one vixen pounced the other and the two went tumbling to the ground, scrapping in an old fashion fist fight.

The brawl didn't slow in its pace. They scrambled about on the ground, clawing at each other to try and gain purchase on the other's hair, fur or clothing. Suddenly one of them managed to kick the other in the chest, which separated the women momentarily.

The Inspector Fox that was still on the floor scrambled over to snatch one of the guns that lay on the floor next to a dead guard. She quickly jumped up and pointed at her other self. The vulpine cop on the receiving end of the barrel quickly scoffed, "Go ahead. Shoot me, bitch. I'll transfer my soul to your body and you'll have lost. Go on, shoot me…. You're only shooting yourself and sealing your fate." It now became obvious which one was Karla. Sly could only praise Carmelita for being able to defeat a powerful immortal, a possessed version of herself.

"Don't you shoot her, Cooper," Carmelita snapped.

"No, shoot us both to be sure," Said the other one, attempting to confuse him again.

"She's mine," The first one growled. "I mean it. If you shoot her, I'll lock you away for so long that you'll be older than McSweeny when you get out. Don't you touch her; she's _mine_." If Sly had any question about who was who before, he certainly didn't anymore. He lowered the Shock Pistol but kept it trained on the unconscious Slick Cooper.

"Shoot me," Karla taunted, flaunting the possessed Carmelita's body, boldly. "Do it… pull the trigger and then I'll have won. I'll end your life and guarantee my success by moving from this body to yours and there won't be another Carmelita or a skewed time line to consider. Do it, you little trick."

"Trick?" Carmelita snapped. "Who the hell are you calling a trick, you dirty two-bit, body snatching Jezebel? I'll put a bullet through your paws and let you scream in agony just so you know what it feels like."

"You're only shooting yourself," Karla insisted, speaking through the other Carmelita's muzzle in the Inspector's very own voice. "I'm your future. I will take over your body and crush your soul in just a matter of days, apparently. I hope you enjoy your chronological crusade, it will end with my triumphant victory!"

"Not if you don't get your paws on me," Carmelita shouted in reply.

"It's impossible for you to stop me!" Karla replied. Each Carmelita was at a stand off with the other, almost face to face, just a few feet apart. Sly clinched his paw around the shock pistol, keeping it trained on the motionless Slick Cooper. His attention was on both vixens, the intense moment causing his heart to pound.

"Did you know that Sly Cooper will be my mate?" One Carmelita asked the other. "It will finally happen; Sly Cooper will get his grubby meat hooks all over this body and there's nothing you can do to stop it."

"You'd better know your damn place," the other Carmelita snapped in reply, cocking the pistol. "You keep your filthy paws off of that man, he belongs to me and whether it's in a jail, a bedroom, or the back of a squad car, he'll be leaving this bank with me one way or another."

"You wish," the possessed vixen spat, cackling in an uncharacteristic way. "He knows you won't give him the time of day and he'd much rather settle for me, knowing I can give him his greatest fantasy… Inspector Carmelita Fox as his life-long mate. Our bodies writhing in unison… ravaging one another every night. Can you just imagine it, Inspector? That man-whore screwing your garden?"

"Man whore?" Sly balked, blinking in surprise. "Hey, wait just a minute now. I'm no meat stick, lady. In fact…!" Sly suddenly found himself stifled into silence by the Carmelita Fox who held a gun, aiming it at her doppelganger.

"Shut up, Cooper! I don't need comments from the peanut gallery!" She said in a commanding voice.

The other Carmelita, who was staring at the barrel of a weapon in the paws of an angry, emotional vixen, simply turned to Sly and said, "Cooper, honey, I'm the only chance you have of marriage and children with Carmelita Fox. If she kills me, I'll assume her body but I won't give you the time of day unless you give me a reason to… turn the shock pistol on her and stun her, then you and I can be together."

Before Sly could say a word, the Inspector Fox who held a weapon in her paws quickly said, "Shut the hell up. You're lying to him. We all heard what you said to your cohorts! You planned to finish him off and mate with his clone, you sick, twisted tramp."

"It was a test to see who was truly superior," Karla explained, sauntering back against the wall. Sly couldn't tear his eyes away, watching Carmelita's possessed form press herself back against the wall, jutting her chest outwards and arching her back in a sexy, feminine pose. "Don't you want me, Sly? Don't you love me? I'm Carmelita Fox, and with the use of that shock pistol, I'll be your happily married mate."

Carmelita pulled the trigger on the weapon. The bullet exploded forth, slamming into the possessed doppelganger's right thigh. Karla's body collapsed to the floor, writhing in agony. She looked up to Sly, her eyes wide and full of pain. "Help me, my love! Be true to me; don't let her fill your future wife with holes! I need you in my life! …Please!"

Sly didn't know what to do. He was watching the woman he loved shoot none other than the woman he loved. It was a harsh shock of reality to see Carmelita cry out and the shimmering ruby on her thigh, blood soaking her pants. Sly glanced from one vixen to the other, hoping that he was backing the correct Carmelita. "Please, don't kill her. If Bentley is right, she'll take _your_ body next. Let me stun her with the Shock Pistol!"

"Don't touch that bitch. Mind your own business, Cooper," Carmelita replied, approaching the other version of herself and placing her gun against Karla's head.

"Carmelita, you're overreacting!" Sly shouted, approaching her quickly.

"Yes, Carmelita," The injured Carmelita said in a weak yet chiding voice. "You're certainly overreacting. But if you're going to do it, then pull the trigger and kill me. I want your body and I will have it. Pull the trigger!" She shouted the last statement, pushing her head against the barrel. "DO IT!"

"You'll _never_ have me," Carmelita said, backing away a few paces. She then reversed the pistol and placed the barrel against her own chest, right where she'd been shot by Muggshot in Bombay a few years back. She grinned when the other Carmelita's eyes widened. "This is the only way I can ensure that you'll never kill and possess my body. See you in hell, you rotten harlot." Before Sly could even interfere, Carmelita pulled the trigger.

The bullet entered her old wound and ruptured from her back, slamming into the wall. The vixen lying against the wall with a hole in her thigh also began to bleed from her chest. The sanguine vitae soaked her shirt and vest, creating a scarlet puddle on the floor. The present-day Carmelita stumbled back, falling to the ground. She turned her head to Sly and with a weak voice, said, "Don't… even think… about taking me to the hospital. If I live, she'll win. Goodbye, Ringtail. I know now why you left me last year… I forgive you."

Sly dropped the shock pistol and raced to Carmelita's side, sliding onto his knees and wrapping his arms around her. "Carmelita, what have you done? Why!" He cried, pulling her head into his chest. "Please, I have to take you to the hospital. I can't let you kill yourself just to stop her! What if her soul returns to her body? She'll have won!"

"That's right… Carmelita," The other dying vixen gasped. Now with a bullet in her leg and in her chest, she was loosing a great deal more blood than the other. "I'll return to my body and you'll be dead. Why would you be so foolish?"

"See you in hell," replied the Carmelita lying in Sly's arms. She lifted the weapon once more and pulled the trigger. The bullet cut through the other vixen's head, piercing between her eyes and ending her life. Carmelita Montoya Fox made the ultimate sacrifice to save Sly from Karla Chintzy… the vulpine officer of the law sacrificed herself and Sly was left, weeping over her dying body. She weakly glanced up at him and, in a soft whisper, said, "Let her invade this body. She'll die."

"She can't now," Came another voice. It was Bentley, wheeling down the hallway, having heard everything over the radio channel that Sly left open the whole time. "You've shot yourself and changed the course of history. Now you'll never fight her in the future so she'll never have your body."

Sly glanced up at his friend, tears streaming down the sides of his face, matting his fur down with moisture. "So we can still take her to the hospital, right? Now that she's altered time, she doesn't _need_ to die, right?"

"As far as I can tell, putting her in the hospital will cause her to avoid the combat with Karla, later," Bentley said, wheeling to the other side of Carmelita's shivering body. She looked up at Sly and frowned.

"It's like Bentley said," she told them, "I'm going to die in Sly Cooper's arms. I can't even feel the blood running down my back anymore."

"No," Sly told her. "We're not going to let you die. I'll get you to a hospital faster than any ambulance. Bentley," Sly said, turning to his friend, "IF this alters time, then that means Karla and Carmelita never fought, so that means that Karla probably didn't die. Go back to the safe house and check on her. I'll meet you there after I drop Carmelita off at the hospital. I don't want Karla finding out and meeting Inspector Fox at the hospital and finishing her. Hurry, Bentley!"

The turtle nodded quickly and began to wheel his way back down the hallway. Suddenly the mission involving the clone, Clockwerk and this bank were forgotten. The two only knew one thing… they had to save Carmelita Fox before it was too late.

Sly stood up, cradling the Inspector into his arms. He turned for the staircase halfway down the hall and began to ascend them towards the rooftop. "Why are you doing this?" She wheezed softly.

"Because you weren't trying to kill yourself," Sly replied. "You could have put the gun to your head but you didn't. You shot yourself in the same place that Muggshot got you, a few years ago."

"You remember that, huh?" Carmelita said, nearly whispering as Sly raced her up the stairs. "Yeah, he didn't hit anything vital so I figured if I shot myself in the exact same place, I wouldn't hit anything vital either."

"But if I don't get you to a hospital, you'll bleed to death," Sly replied, taking the steps two at a time. They were nearly to the top as Sly was in a hurry to get her the help she would need to survive. "I'm really impressed you would sacrifice yourself to stop her from taking your body. Now that fight will never happen and she'll never possess you in the first place. That was smart," he said, trying to boost her confidence.

It apparently worked to some level as Carmelita produced a faint smile. "Thanks. I'm impressed too; you didn't accept her invitation. All you had to do was shoot me with the shock pistol, Sly."

"I love _you_ for who you are," Sly explained, telling her, "I love you for _you_. Not for your body but for your self confidence, your mind and the woman within. I love you for our history. I love you and I'll love you when we're old and wrinkled."

"You're such a caddy flirt," Carmelita whispered into the side of his cheek. She, too, had tears streaming down her face as death grew near. "Muggshot didn't plug me at pointblank range, you know. I might not survive."

"You'll live to chase me through the streets of Paris again, I promise," Sly said sternly. He kicked open the door to the rooftop and immediately leapt off the edge. He angled his feet, landing on a high tension wire. The cable was strong enough to support their combined weight with ease and he slid down the wire like riding a rail, all the way to an electric pole. He then began a gracefully executed sprint, placing one foot in front of the other, walking the lines faster than he usually traversed them.

"I'd like that," Carmelita admitted weakly. "I'll hold you to it; if I live, I'll chase you through the streets of Paris again."

"It's a date," Sly promised, keeping her body supported in his arms. His left paw was beneath her legs and his right paw was beneath her shoulders. He could see the large Red Cross on the rooftop of a building only a few blocks away. "We're going to make it," he told her. "It's not far now."

Suddenly, a blue pulsation of energy lanced passed them. Sly glanced over his shoulder and frowned. Slick Cooper had recovered and was following them with the Shock Pistol. It was on its highest setting and Sly knew that if they were hit at this height, both he and Carmelita would fall to their death.

"Don't worry, I've got you," Sly promised. "Hold on tight, we're going to make a leap of faith," he added, hurdling into the air. A glob of energy lanced above them, narrowly missing the back of Sly's head. Sly targeted a tightly tied awning and bent his knees just slightly. Absorbing the impact in his legs, the awning also swallowed them for a moment before repelling them back into the air.

Sly and Carmelita were launched back into the sky, where his feet connected with a rooftop, overlooking the hospital. Another two shock pistol rounds passed by Sly on the left and right side of him, narrowly missing Carmelita's head and feet which were perpendicular to Sly's torso.

"Where did you learn to evade like this," Carmelita gasped softly, trying her best to stay awake from the loss of blood.

"Running from you," Sly told her, leaping from the next rooftop. His eyes zeroed in on the top of an ambulance and he aimed for it. The fiberglass box of the vehicle slowed their descent but gave-way to their fall, just the same. Sly cradled her body close to his own as they fell through the top of the ambulance, landing on his tail on a wheeled stretcher cart that was in the back. The ambulance had been backed up to the loading dock outside of the emergency room and both doors burst wide open on the back of the vehicle.

Sly and Carmelita, sitting unceremoniously on the wheeled stretcher, found themselves racing into the hospital, out of control. The double glass doors leading into the back side of the emergency room were designed to open automatically for paramedic teams who were usually rushing a patient in. Luckily for Sly and Carmelita, the doors whooshed open just in time and the cart continued to roll down the hospital hallway charged with all of the transferred kinetic energy from Sly's rooftop fall.

Startled nurses and medical staff members gawked at the strange entrance of a raccoon and vixen, sitting on a stretcher, which rolled down the hallway at a high rate of speed. At the end of the hall, there was a check-in desk. The nurse at the counter stepped back with wide eyes at the rapidly approaching cart. The female husky backed away quickly, running for cover. Suddenly the cart slammed into the main desk and the Kinetic energy was transferred back into Sly's body, putting him into motion.

He was quick, however. From all of his practice and experience with this sort of thing on capers in the past, he was ready for it. He soared over the counter and landed, feet first, on top of a patient insurance registration table. He took one step forward, carried forth by the momentum, only to come to a final stop. Suddenly the legs gave out beneath the table and collapsed flat to the ground but the gracefully balanced Master Thief remained erect, holding Carmelita. Bewildered staff members just gawked at them.

"Don't just stand there,' Sly demanded, "She's been shot and she needs a doctor… NOW!" He added at the end. As if on cue several staff members dashed into action, quickly retrieving a mobile bed to take her directly to surgery.

No sooner did Sly relinquish his grasp of Carmelita's body, a blue orb of a high velocity shock round sailed down the hallway, passed over the front counter and struck Sly directly in his chest. The velocity of the round threw him clear into the nearest wall, unconscious. Hospital security, which happened to have gathered around the counter where Sly's cart had stopped, was quick to draw their low caliber handguns and return fire at Slick Cooper.

The genetically engineered clone was able to dodge the rounds, using the Shock Pistol to render them unconscious. Once he made it to the end of the hallway, he bounded over the counter and landed almost directly on top of Sly's motionless body. Slick snatched up his natural-born nemesis and hurled the deadweight of Sly's form over his shoulder.

Without a word, the black-furred clone with gray stripes made his way towards the nearest fire escape exit, leaving with an unconscious Sly Cooper. Strangely enough, however, Slick Cooper's shadow was unusually dark, following the cloned raccoon out of the Hospital…

* * *

**Bentley drew blank, gawking at the **empty Safe House. Karla wasn't here which worried him that she may have escaped. "Dammit, where could she be!" He exclaimed only for Raul to step through the fabric of space and time once again. "Mister Poliandro!" Bentley gasped.

Raul Sergio Poliandro swept his arm in a graceful bow then replied with a simple, "Si, Señor. If you're looking for the pretty kitty, she's not here, amigo."

"Where did she go?" Bentley asked, turning his wheelchair around to face the doorway.

"She's at the Laboratory, amigo. You'll find her in a vat of Liquid Nitrogen; her soul returned to her body but she won't survive the deep freeze unless you put her into a stasis chamber. If you don't hurry, her soul will transfer back to the surviving Carmelita. You'd best hurry, tortoise. I don't think you'll make it, though… Turtles are too slow!"

"I have to rescue her?" Bentley cried incredulously. "Are you kidding? She's a killer and trying to stop us!"

"She's frozen," said Raul. "If you don't get her in stasis and stabilize her, her soul will be back on the loose, amigo. Good luck getting there, slow poke!" Raul patted him on his shelled shoulder then stepped back through the fabric of space-time, disappearing.

Bentley narrowed his eyes, which couldn't even be distinguished by the simple white reflections in his lenses. His thick brows furrowed and his heart began to race. He wasn't some simple slow turtle. No, to call him slow would have been an insult. He wheeled his way down to the street level and made his way out to Main Street. In the distance, the spires of the Castle owned by The Sire could be seen.

Bentley punched in a few key commands on his wheelchair controls then braced himself. A pair thin metallic arms came out from the back of his seat, piecing together two sections of a cylindrical booster. Almost immediately, a deep orange glow began to emanate from within that metal cylinder followed by a fiery charge. The afterburners on his chair still worked after not using them since around the time he'd invented the chair. He prayed that it would hold together and, to his delight, the chair responded admirably for its owner.

He sailed up the main avenue, surpassing 90 kilometers per hour. The chair continued to accelerate, passing parked cars on all sides of the street at such a pace that they resembled a series of blurs. Within two minutes, he arrived at the castle laboratory, sitting about four or five miles from the safe house. Upon arrival snow began to fall from the sky and the early morning sun was just coming over the eastern horizon. It was the beginning of day two and yet Bentley had so much to do.

Bentley mumbled to himself, unheard over the roar of the wind in his face. "I can't believe I have to rescue Karla Chintzy from a completely frozen stasis," He groused softly. His finger released the charge button on his control panel and suddenly the roar of the rocket faded from his ears, leaving nothing more than the ambient sound of the whistling wind. Being that it was day break meant that Murray, his Doppelganger and Penelope should be arriving fairly soon.

Once they arrived, he would be able to return to his walking suit and then he would be a greater asset to the team. For now, he had to utilize this wheelchair and, even worse, he had to make his way inside of this Castle up ahead… and rescue Karla Chintzy from a frozen fate and put her body into stasis. Assumably, with her soul returning to her original body, the immortal would be able to survive the liquid nitrogen fate if placed into a suspended animation chamber as quickly as possible.

Now it was all up to Bentley to safe Carmelita Fox. Usually this was Sly Cooper's job but he, too, was supposed to be handling the task of Carmelita's safety and wellbeing. "All this to save a cop," Bentley said with a shake of his head. The chair began to slow down as he coasted onto the pavement that led up to the Castle's front walk area. "It's a good thing for her that my best friend loves her," Bentley added. "Else I'd just assume leave Karla's body in ice and we could easily just move on."

He knew he couldn't do that. The only thing he was worried about now was the possibility of crossing paths with the _real_ Steven Skunk or possibly The Sire, who was left back at the Bank. Bentley knew he had to hurry, recalling Carmelita's words on the plane the night they began their time travel. … It would be on the second sub-level, beneath the Castle grounds and only accessible by elevator.

Once the chair came to a near stop, he put his hands on the wheels again and headed for the main door. "I hope there was only one Slick Cooper," Bentley said softly. "I don't know how many more I could handle. There'd better not be an army of them in this place," he added, heading inside and wheeling into the main lobby….

* * *

A/N: _Wshew, what a **long** chapter. LOL I didn't know where to go with the story for a while and that's why I took this passed month off. I'm sorry about the hiatus but I'm back. I've had a few personal life-changes in the last two weeks and want to assure you all that I'll be writing more on all my stories. It's personal stuff and don't want to get into any of it but no worries… Anyway, I had a strange and random inspiration for this chapter about two or three weeks ago and wrote down what I wanted to do. I waited until Sunday July 30th then I sat down and wrote 26 pages in a few hours. Man, I was a writing fool this weekend. I'm headed back to Richmond Virginia and getting my old job back which was pretty flexible with my writing and my desire for overtime pay. Hopefully this is a good thing, like it was in late 2004, early 2005. :D _

_Also, I wanted to make sure that I completely finished this chapter without turning it into multiple chapters. I didn't want you guys worrying about having multiple Carmelita's and multiple other doppelgangers running around because that sort of thing can get confusing (See my starfox story: Similar Paths Taken, but only if you're a hardcore StarFox fan, because I write a parallel universe crossing story that intersects the Snes/Comic storyline of StarFox with the more recent storyline used in the N64, Game Cube and Nintendo DS, which puts a Military Fox and Fara Phoenix into the same reality as a Mercenary Fox and his GF, Krystal. XD Now talk about confusing, lol). _

_That's why this chapter is so long… I wanted to start and finish the entire section concerning multiple Carmelita Fox's! Sorry if it got confusing; I wanted to try and do my best to help the reader understand which Carmelita was which but at the same time, when they were fighting each other, I wanted to be vague so you could understand how confused Sly must have felt. _

_I've also written over 30 percent of a CASTLEVANIA fan fiction but I've not posted anything yet. I did it for fun but some parts of that story are turning out to be really neat. Maybe I'll post it in the future, eh:D Any Castlevania / Dracula fans out there:) _

_Finally, Chapter 9 of Reflections of a New Generation should be up by tomorrow. I'm flabbergasted that Reflections of the Future, a starfox story with Krystal as the main character, is still getting OVER one hundred hits every week and it's been finished for 8 months! It now has reached over TEN THOUSAND hits and some of the later chapters have broke six and seven hundred hits each. Is that what it takes to get a lot of readers anymore? Just write a Mary Sue in Love:D Hey, I'm a hopeless romantic and let me tell ya, I can write some ridiculous romance scenes without even trying hard. :) _

_Thanks again for reading everyone! I hope this action-packed chapter kept you all on your toes! Also, more importantly, I hope that some of you readers enjoyed it! Let me know what you guys thought so I know that I don't just have 3 or 4 people reading it over 3 or 4 times each. I want to know that my hit counter is pretty accurate ;) _

_Any critical reviewers out there, let me know details behind your beef that way I can address or repair; don't just say "I hate it" or "this sux bye" lol. _

_Thanks again! I'll be working on this story more often, again. :D _

_

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_

_-Kit Karamak the Crazy Kitsune_

_By The Numbers:_

_How Long it took to write this chapter: 5 total hours_

_Words in this chapter: 13,242_

_Chapters in this story: 23_

_Stories finished or in development: 11_

_Appreciated haters: 6_

_Number of Laptops I've gone through while writing this story so far: 3_

_Number of Hugs I want to give my readers: penta-googolplex plus one! (That's 5x more than ten duotrigintillion or ten thousand sexdecillion, aka a Googol, which is a 'one' with a half-million zero digits … slightly more than my calculator can display! XD. Yes, I'm Being Silly!) _


	24. Act5 C24 Clash And Assault

A/N: _I've not forgotten you! But as many of you know, the new StarFox came out for the Nintendo DS and so I've been on a huge StarFox kick lately. I love that game! _

_:D _

_Anyhow, **thank you all for being patient**! This is the final act of Lament of Carmelita. I know it'll be at LEAST 4 or 5 chapters, give or take. I hope you've all enjoyed it so far. I know it's been a strange and demented story because I've had absolutely no idea where I was going with it from the first minute I started it. I actually wrote Chapter 1 for Octavarius Kaiser Scott when he and I were in the middle of insulting one another. He said something like "I bet you can't even write, put your money where your mouth is" Then I wrote that first chapter for him in about twenty minutes or less. We became fast friends after that and I decided to post the chapter. It did well so I kept going and now, 24 chapters later, here we all are! Now I'm friends with all of you and I'm glad; what can I say? Thank you, readers. I appreciate it! We still have LOTS to do in this story… _

_FINALLY, _

_I guess I was so excited about the new StarFox game that I've been working my tail off on Reflections Of A New Generation. I mean, I've put some of my best stuff halfway through that story so far… chapter 13 and 14 were pretty emotional times for me… So, I do apologize that it took so long for me to return to this story. At any rate, I'm back; I've not forgotten this story and … I really need to bring it back down to earth because I try to be a realist at times and … Lament Of Carmelita, from Chapter 13 until now… is far from real, LOL. _

_At any rate, for those of you who have commented on the short-story original I posted in my profile… THANK you for taking time to discuss your feelings about it with me. I appreciate that you took the time to read it. I wrote it so very long ago that it feels …archaic but nevertheless, thank you  
__:D_

* * *

Act: -5- _Finale and_ _Curtain Call _

Chapter 24 "_Clash_ And _Assault_"

**Bentley, Murray and Penelope** stood in the laboratory, facing Karla Chintzy. It felt like a final showdown and yet so many things led to this moment in time. The three members of the Cooper Gang had come from Paris, driving for the last day. Murray was exhausted but he was also ready to end this ordeal once and for all. Penelope stood between the two gentlemen with a remote control in her paw and, finally, Bentley stood in his mechanical walker legs, his back straight and his eyes narrow with a streak of blood running from the corner of his mouth, down his chin and to the base of his neck.

The salty, metallic taste of his blood was a harsh reminder that he was still alive. On the floor behind the Felox was a fallen version of his future self. The doppelganger had seen so much; traveling through time and the death of his friends and now that Bentley was laid to rest to join his comrades. The present-day version couldn't help his trembling lip; he was shaking with anger and frustration.

Karla Chintzy had died in liquid nitrogen then her soul was transferred to the _future_ doppelganger of Carmelita Fox. The _past_ embodiment of Inspector Fox shot herself to keep Karla out of her body and the plan _worked_. In fact, it worked so well that by putting herself into a hospital, she never subjected herself to becoming killed by Karla. But because of the paradox, Karla's body was still in the Liquid Nitrogen and yet here she was, standing before the Cooper Triumvirate.

As it turned out, there were other cloned versions of her body that sat in tubes here in the laboratory. Her soul fled to the flesh of the last one and she woke, inside of the tube. Now, covered in moisture, her newly awakened body was slimy and her fur was matted down. She wore only a simple cloth that clung to her shoulders and stopped at her knees, somewhat like a sundress. The creamy vanilla fur with carnation swirls that ran down over her chest was clinging to her form as if she'd just emerged from a swimming pool. The lovely looking woman folded her arms across her chest, gazing at them intensely. Slowly, her body began to levitate from the floor.

"This fighting as gone on far too long," She hissed softly, leering at the group. Murray's face and arms were covered in cuts and bruises; a large purple mark was starting to show just beneath his right eye and the cut over his shoulder was starting to soak part of the blue driving scarf around his neck into a tint of scarlet. Sweat lined his brow, depicting the incredible struggle he'd been put through in the last twenty minutes.

Finally, Penelope stood between her mate and her friend, holding the remote control belonging to her RC Chopper. The remains of that small helicopter lay on the floor, smoldering in ruin. Karla had managed to display her powers of telekinesis only moments prior by throwing it against the ceiling before winging it at Murray. The rotary blades caused most of the cuts over his arms and now the unit was useless. Her RC Car was salvaged for later but she knew it would be useless against a woman with the power to teleport objects and control their mass with simple telekinesis.

"It ends here," Bentley said, panting softly. The taste of his blood was nauseating. It spilled down over his beaklike mouth, running over his chin and down to where his neckline disappeared into his shell.

Chintzy seemed unimpressed. "Bold words for a group of kleptomaniacs who put up absolutely _no fight_ whatsoever," Karla muttered, adding, "Do you know what this place is?" She chortled softly. "It's not only the setting of your funeral but it's the operation center of Sire and Steven's greatest creations! This is the center of our dreams and it's come alive! It doesn't matter if I really _am_ a clone, anymore! I will soon have Sly Cooper telling me where I can obtain the pendant of his future fiancée and use that so that Slick Cooper, our creation of perfection, will be able to give me a child as my mate! A supernatural with the power to bare offspring means that an immortal Master Thief will be born. I'll be hailed as a goddess and my powers will be passed on in a way you cannot conceive. And all of you…? Hmm," She smiled darkly, narrowing her eyes.

Karla shrugged, flipping a creamy tuft of her headfur over her shoulder. "…You'll all be just a memory," She promised with cocky tones. In a gruesome display of her powers, she lifted a paw into the air, palm up. Bentley's future-traveling doppelganger rose from the floor, possessed by telekinesis; it lifted into the air, his legs dangling from the shell.

Once the body was floating high enough to ensure that she had _everyone_'s attention, she slung her paw forward causing the defeated body to be slung across the area. Murray caught the body, tears welling up in his eyes. He gazed down at the dead version of his friend, trying not to quiver with rage. Nearby, a nearly-decimated wheelchair lay upon its side, mangled from abuse.

"So what!" Murray roared, still angry that a version of Bentley was dead. "Just because you can throw my friend at me doesn't make you more powerful! You've killed my friend and believe me, I still have something you don't and can't possibly use against me!" He was shaking with the anger now, letting the adrenaline build up so that he could use it against her. He set the other body of his reptilian friend on the floor.

"And what, pray tell, would that be, Moron?" She asked, shifting her shapely hips. Her fox-like tail swished through the air behind herself. Her cat-like ears flickered in annoyance.

"A heart!" Murray shouted, immediately charging her. She glanced down at her right paw, curling her fingers into her palm to examine her nails. Bentley's eyes widened just a bit as his friend dashed through the void between them and Karla. Just as Murray was about to tackle her, he vanished completely.

"Oh," Karla muttered as if bored. "I'd forgotten to mention… Telekinesis and Teleportation apply to both myself _and_ others around me, dear. Behold," She added, without so much as blinking. Murray suddenly appeared near the ceiling and began to plummet back to the floor. He immediately began to wave his arms wildly, flailing about in the air and within seconds, his form slammed into the floor. Murray sat halfway up, putting his weight on his arms. She smiled again, turning her head just slightly to face the hippo. "Don't think my abilities are limited to one target at a time," She continued, trying to keep her smile from simply melting into a grin to better maintain that 'too pleasant' expression she already wore.

Suddenly, Bentley and Penelope disappeared only to switch places. They blinked quickly, turning to face one another. They were both slightly disoriented and it took a moment for them to realize that they'd completely switched positions at the exact same time. "As you can see," Karla cooed softly, "I was caught off guard by Carmelita but believe me, I won't be caught off guard again, especially by you imbeciles."

"Stop!" Bentley cried, lifting one of the attachments on his bionic leg suit. A missile fired towards her and she simply waved her paw at it. The missile changed course, heading straight up into the air. She then waved her other paw and it disappeared.

"Would you like to know where it is?" She asked. They were astonished, shocked into silence. "Aw," Karla chuckled. "Why I put it outside in a harmless place. In fact… Oh, I stand corrected! Seems there was a silly van outside, right in the way! I do believe I destroyed the van, clumsy me!" She broke into a fit of giggles, folding her paws across her chest, just beneath the expansive swell of her bosom.

"NO!" Murray shouted, sitting up with wide eyes. "No! No, you didn't! How could you destroy that van?" He shouted, growing angrier by the second. "You are lying!" He cried, balling his large pink hands into fists. "You blew up my van!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. It caused Bentley and Penelope to cringe, holding their ears. "You evil, horrible woman! That was _my_ van!" He continued, blasting the words at the top of his lungs. Now even Karla was squinting, reaching her paws over her ears. Murray grabbed one of the computer terminals, eighty inches tall, weighing several hundred pounds, then hurled it at Chintzy.

She stood her ground, teleporting the terminal. It disappeared in mid air only to reappear behind Murray. But, to her surprise, the hippo was quicker than she'd have thought. He snatched it back out of the air and hurled it at her again. This time, she teleported herself and reappeared approximately five feet to the right of her original position.

"Temper, temper Murray!" She laughed, shaking her head with a smile. "It's a useless automobile. Those things _can_ be replaced. I'm shocked that you're not as upset about the death of your friend; his future ends here, on a cold metal floor. Look at him," She said, pointing to the reptile's dead form. His glasses lay on the floor inverted, just inches from his beak-like nose. His blue bike helmet was still attached to his head and his eyes were only partially open; his pupils were rolled back up into his head.

"_He_ cannot be replaced," Chintzy explained. "Your van is gone, your best friend has no future and you're acting like an angry child. That is why _you_ are an idiot fool. You're all idiots for different reasons. All of you are going to die just like Sly Cooper, who happens to be in custody again. I promise you, he won't live long. He's only alive because I wanted to gloat to him before he dies. I wanted to kill Carmelita's doppelganger at the hospital then tell him. I wanted to see the expression on his face before I reach into his chest and tear out his heart. But before I do all of that, I plan to make him tell me where I can find the pendant his family uses as an engagement heirloom. It's crucial. Now, I'm done talking. It's time to kill you all," She said.

The white-furred Felox, marked with stripes of pink over her fur, threw both of her arms outwards. All three of them went flying backwards into the nearest Super Computer wall, knocking down a line of terminals. Murray was the only one able to stand up after such an attack. He struggled to his feet, eyeing Karla with a narrowed gaze. "You're far more evil than the Contessa," He muttered softly.

"Contessa!" Karla shouted. "How could you even compare us, you twit!" She roared, throwing her paws straight up into the air. A computer terminal, weighing in excess of 400 pounds, went flying up into the air only for it to disappear before it could hit the ceiling. Karla pivoted on her right heel, spinning around hard. When she did a full rotation, she threw her paws out again. The large machine reappeared, clobbering Murray head on, sandwiching him between the two machines, one row back. It hit like a Mack truck, easily breaking two of his ribs.

Karla's voice dripped with her sardonically worded expression of amusement. "You're quite resilient; that would have killed most men," She mused.

"I've succeeded in one thing," Murray gasped, trying to suck in air. His wheezing was painful to Bentley's ears. Murray shoved one of the large units off of his chest and looked up at Karla with a slight grin which confused her. He then said, "We've destroyed your laboratory so when you're defeated again, you won't be coming back."

"Oh aren't you God's gift to intelligence!" She roared. "I'm not going to die this time! We have Sly Cooper in custody! Carmelita is dying in a hospital from a gunshot wound and one out of two Bentley J. Turtle's are already _dead_! You three are all that remains and I'm going to take care of _that_ little detail right _now_!" She raised her paws upwards, causing her bust to jut outwards. She arched her back as if she was holding something heavy above her head, looking straight up into the air.

Without any warning, a shadowy tendril lanced out from beneath Murray and struck Karla across her gut. It threw her clear across the room causing her to slam into the floor, rolling over several times. She came to a stop, face down, wincing in agony from the pain inflicted against her breast. Chintzy eased up on her elbows, narrowing her eyes. "What in the hell was _that_?" She balled her paws up, gritting her teeth.

Stepping out of the shadows, Donovan Loupe placed himself between where she lay and where Penelope, Bentley and Murray were lying. "You're on a power trip, Miss Chintzy," Said Donovan. "You didn't know? Carmelita is safe, where even _you_ can't reach her. They're flying her in a medical chopper to another hospital; she's in stable condition and you can't teleport yourself to a fast moving aerial vehicle. As far as Sly? You have no plans to kill him until you can gloat in his face that Carmelita is dead and now you can't kill her. That Helicopter has a full tank of fuel and with this snowstorm entering the area, the pilot is simply sitting above the storm, waiting it out. He could stay up there for a few hours, too bad you're powerless to reach her."

"I'll teleport _you_ up there," She sneered, climbing to her feet. "You'll appear right in the rotors, which kills you and causes the stupid chopper to come crashing down, killing the goddamn cop. I am _far_ from powerless, Loupe!" She threw her paws outwards and he simply disappeared. "See! Do you see what I am capable of?" She cackled gleefully.

Suddenly, her shadow began to reach up from beneath her feet, wrapping around her ankles. It consumed the lower half of her body, climbing up over her hips and stomach, entombing her. In this tenebrous form, he now lacked the mass to be teleported and she was powerless to stop him from consuming her. The darkness continued up over her form, until she was a three dimensional silhouette of shade. Even her screams were muffled into complete silence.

Bentley turned to his cohorts and exclaimed, "Let's level this place and get out of here! Maybe we can still trash Clockwerk before he's rebuilt!"

"We've got to find Sly!" Murray protested, picking up a large terminal and checking it into a line of computers, knocking them all down. "Why don't we go after him first?"

"We have no idea where he is!" Bentley reasoned. "We have to start with what we can finish now; there's no time to procrastinate, it's time to find Clockwerk and destroy him! I have a fix on the position where Carmelita and my… doppelganger… had called me from. It's a bank in the downtown area. It shouldn't be but a few miles from here. We'll have to do it by foot, but let's hurry!"

"Wait," Murray said, holding up his hand with a gleam in his eye. "There's one thing that The Murray must do…!" He then lifted his other hand, motioning for them to move. "Stand back, citizens; this could get messy." He trudged forward a few paces then stretched, arching his back then craning his neck. Bentley and Penelope quickly moved away, heading back in the way they came. Murray tucked himself into a ball, the way he'd learned to do from the Australian Guru a few years back (A/N: _Sly Three: Honor Amongst Thieves_).

He immediately sprung forth, bounding about the room to crush and destroy as many computers as he could possibly hope to annihilate. This set off the security protocol drones but those too were almost immediately crushed by Murray's hulking round form. Once he felt satisfied that his civic duty had been accomplished, he rolled out of the bouncing ball form and came to his feet. He took a moment to shake off the disorientation then stopped in front of the still-bound Karla Chintzy who was covered in a matter-less coating of tar.

"You deserve that," Murray told her, still a little dizzy from the ball-form romp. "I hope it sucks a whole lot, lady." He then knelt down and picked up Bentley's set of glasses that lay besides the motionless future-form body. "I'll make sure we win this time, so that this doesn't happen to you," Murray whispered to his deceased friend. "I'll make sure you win in the past; you're my friend and I can't lose you. You're all I have, Bentley. … I love you like a brother." He then placed the glasses back on the tortoise's beak-shaped nose and began to walk away, heading for where his two surviving friends were standing, across the Laboratory.

Approaching the elevator, Murray looked from Penelope to Bentley and said, "We can't let you die in the future, Bentley; it just can't happen. We may not have Sly to help us right now but we can do this if we smash everything more carefully. Let's go, The Murray has more than just the world to save; he has to save his friends' future."

Bentley reached his right hand up, using the backside of his wrist to wipe the blood away from his mouth. "Thanks pal. I don't want to end up on the floor of this laboratory when I die. Let's stick together and we can get through this. C'mon, we have a long walk ahead of us."

Indeed, the Cooper coterie had a long walk in the freshly falling snow. It gave them time to reflect on what they'd just learned and what they had to look forward to. Normally, Bentley was more optimistic but after seeing himself dead, he knew that his brain wouldn't get him through this ordeal alone. He also realized that if he let his friends die then his chances of success alone were absolute zero. He already had physical evidence placed before his eyes, just moments prior; there was no need to crunch numbers this time. The three trudged onwards, heading into Prague with heavy hearts, contemplating their own futures and the possible outcome of _this_ future. They could only hope that things didn't end up happening the exact same way.

**

* * *

**

**Inspector Fox lay in the stretcher aboard a helicopter** which hovered above a hospital at the edge of town. It was supposed to be one of the finer facilities in the region and yet the storm kept them from having a safe descent. An oxygen mask rested upon her snout and a liquid IV had been put into the backside of her left paw. Some of the fur had been shaved off of her paw to allow for the IV needle to be inserted.

Her eyes fluttered open; her dilated eyes shrank to vertical slits, gazing up at the dark colored chopper roof. Early waxing sunlight bathed the helicopter in pink and yellow rays and the dawn skyline to the east was a beautiful hue of carnation and orange. Beneath the chopper was a blanket of clouds, which worked to layer the land in a beautiful virgin snow. Her eyes began to enlarge again, just slightly, adjusting to the lighting of daybreak.

"You're lucky to have survived," One of the medics said to her, upon noticing that her eyes were now open. "A bit ironic isn't it? You're on file as a police officer from France; you were rescued by a world-renowned Robin Hood named Sly Cooper. He's the one who brought you to us and Lord knows, he was _just in time_, too."

"Where… is he?" She half-whimpered under the oxygen mask. Her muffled words had to be repeated once more before the medic could comprehend the question.

The medic was wearing an identification badge that placed him as a member of the hospital she had just come from. "The hospital was attacked and some guy who looked a lot like him kicked in the doors. I think they may have been related; same nose and eyes, same cheekbone. I take it they didn't like one another or they were scrapping over _you_. Either way, the one shot the other was some sort of taser on steroids and took the other one out of the hospital over his shoulder."

"He's going to be killed because he was too busy saving me," Carmelita whispered to herself. She then lifted her voice to an audible level and said, "Do I need surgery?"

"A minor one, if at all," The medic told her, adding, "Honestly, you just need blood and rest. We've stitched you up pretty well; there is no internal bleeding and nothing major was hit. You're lucky, that bullet track was a one in a million. And you should be more careful, lightning never strikes the same place twice. You may not be as lucky in the future!"

Carmelita smiled knowingly. Muggshot's attack was the one-in-a-million shot. This was just a reenactment of the same shot. He'd used a powerful gun to strike her down while she'd used something less devastating on herself. Had she wielded a .50 caliber magnum, she'd have put a hole in her chest large enough to pass a paw through. She couldn't remember what kind of weapon she had used on herself and, furthermore, she couldn't remember where she'd left the weapon. It was a gaping hole in her memory as deep as the bullet wound that passed completely through her torso.

She felt tired, with such desperate need of blood. If she didn't have a transfer soon, her body would struggle to continue pumping blood to her heart. She was cold, draped in blankets there in the stretcher. Her fingertips felt numb as if she had her paws dipped in ice. The Inspector felt oddly violated, knowing that a small patch of fur was shaven off of her back and part of her tummy, so near to her breast. The bullet that passed through wasn't even in her body anymore but in order to have the wound stitched, the medical staff would have had to remove her blouse and bra. The hospital gown was comfortable but she preferred the sensation of having clothing on her body.

Nervous eyes shifted about, looking to the front of the helicopter. There were two men in the cockpit and two people with medical uniforms in the back with her. She glanced back up to the guy sitting next to her and asked, "It's not a life threatening gunshot, so why would I be transferred to a better hospital? What's wrong with the one I was at?"

"Our hospital has a great staff but our blood supply is low," The man explained. "It's not that you have an exceedingly rare blood type or anything, but we didn't want to pump you full of plasma and we didn't want to fly in the good stuff during a snow storm when we felt it was safer to fly you to the place where we would do the transfusion."

Carmelita still felt confused. She wasn't sure if it had anything to do with the lack of blood or if she was simply too untrusting. However, something didn't sit right with her. She normally never felt oddly violated after something as small as a stitch job and she normally had no problems being herself in front of a doctor. Something didn't sit right about this group of people but she couldn't figure out what it was.

Carmelita drew in a long, slow breath then asked, "The _good stuff_? You're telling me that a large downtown hospital is low on Blood?"

The medic looked to be growing defensive. He glanced around then leaned down and spoke softly into her ear. "Ma'am, I understand your concern about this situation, but we're running low on blood for your species; we're not licensed to attempt a xenotransplantation with blood from a feline or canine and I wouldn't want to try that sort of thing with _my_ blood; it could become downright fatal," He explained.

Carmelita gazed up at him for a moment, studying his face. His eyes never deterred from her own and so she decided to believe him for now. "So you're low on vulpine whole blood; I suppose I can buy that excuse. How much longer before we land?" She asked.

The medic stepped back from her, putting his paws on his hips. He looked her over for a moment then shook his head slowly. Finally, he said, "We're waiting for a break in the storm; our pilot doesn't feel comfortable setting down in a vortex of wind and snow. Rotary blades turn those conditions into what we call 'White-out landings' and they're nothing more than a gamble with the lives of those involved. You'll be fine, Miss Fox. Please, just try to relax; we're not your enemies."

"Fine," Carmelita muttered, closing her eyes for a moment. It was a struggle to stay awake and she vaguely remembered her mother telling her to take a nap during long road trips as a kid. She remembered that she would wake up and the family would have arrived at their destination and it would feel a great deal faster than sitting there and staring out the window the whole time. Her body was hurting and her mind was racing from the lack of trust she had for _everyone_. But at the same time, she was so tired from the lack of blood that calm soon took her consciousness and gave her temporary peace.

**

* * *

**

**The thevious raccoon **sat up on a concrete floor. His joints still ached and his muscles were tight and tense from getting hit at full power by a shock pistol blast. His head, however, was quick to clear, allowing him cognizance of his surroundings. "…Ow," Sly muttered, reaching to touch his chest where he'd been nailed. Had the weapon been in any range of closer proximity, it might have stopped his heart.

Other than the aches and pains in his shoulders, neck and limbs, he felt fairly well. Beyond the bars of his new cell, a hallway beckoned him; laden with silence and foreboding, the dimly illuminated hall was simultaneously a home to him and at all the same time, a tease. It was the perfect place for a Master Thief and yet it was beyond his reach. He stood up and hobbled over to the bars, trying to rush circulation back to his legs. "I'M AWAKE!" He shouted, trying to draw attention to himself. "Hello? Sly Cooper here, come and see, the Master Thief is behind bars and you're missing it!"

He paused, frowning thoughtfully. "This is usually the part where the bad guy comes out and gloats so I can figure out what in the hell is going on, here then ascertain Carmelita's health. Hmm, I guess every capture can't be as cliché as the last." He began pacing almost immediately, watching the dim shadow dancing on the wall as he marched back and forth. A few minutes into his pacing, he glanced back at the shadow and said, "I bet _you_ could step between those bars. …Must be nice."

To his surprise, the shadow extended from the wall and out into the hallway as if a spotlight had just rotated about his body. Sly's eyes followed the runaway patch of shade with intense curiosity, dashing over to the bars. His paws wrapped around the metallic polls, glaring at the shadow in complete disbelief. "Are you kidding? I _must_ be dreaming."

"It is possible that you're awake," Came a voice. He thought he saw the muzzle of the shadow moving but he knew that was completely impossible. Cooper's brow furrowed a bit and he tilted his head with a frown. He then noticed that the shadow on the floor appeared to have a cap between the triangular silhouette of ears, where his had been lost, allowing for short tousled locks of gray to be free. He just leered at that shadow; and why not? He'd seen stranger things in his life, from hopping vampires (A/N:_ Sly3_) to ghosts and straight up magic (A/N: _every darn Sly game_).

It was obvious this was another worldly trick from some weirdo like the guy who attacked him with the shadows up on the rooftops of Paris yesterday. Sly smirked and announced, "I've seen the shadow trick before. I'm not impressed, pal."

"We were on different teams yesterday," The shadow announced, taking its cap off then flipping it up into the air. It arched it back and craned its neck and the hat seemed to land squarely upon its head, emulating Sly's balancing boredom hat trick. "You're just upset because you're in there and I'm out here."

Cooper shrugged. "Upset? No," Sly chuckled. "A little envious? Yeah, that's me; envious." The shadow waited for a few seconds then shrugged exactly the same way in reply as if mocking him. "Aren't you funny," he muttered, watching the taunting tenebrous two-dimensional patch. "So are we allies now or something?"

"You could say I made a mistake yesterday," replied the shadow, adding, "I was under the impression that you were attempting to steal the chip from the feds so that you could use it to build Clockwerk. I was duped, you were captured; we all make mistakes, Mister Cooper."

Sly began to turn his head away but paused at the last second, watching the shade dance upon the ground out of the corner of his left eye… He glanced back at it then said, "So let me out of here."

"I don't have the key," The shadow replied with a wanton sigh. "You're trapped. I'm out here saving your friends from big-breasted Queens with an attitude and making sure Slick Cooper didn't kill you. I'm multi-tasking my missions; I don't see you trying very hard to escape, Sir."

"Don't patronize me," Sly groused. "I had a vixen to save while running from a genetically enhanced version of myself or _whatever_ the hell he was… I'm still shocked after seeing Carmelita fighting herself and I'm still half-way reeling after seeing her turn the gun in on herself. That's some emotionally traumatizing stuff, man."

"You _sound_ traumatized, Mister Cooper. Really, you do. Honest," The shadow chided. "Listen, you got Carmelita to safety. I made sure of it; she's fine and part of you trusts that. That's why you're not sitting there going crazy about her; so no, you're not traumatized. Second of all, you're aching a little from the jolt but you've not been beaten. You need to snap out of this silly trance and escape from this cell, idiot."

"Who're you calling idiot?" Sly said, folding his arms across his chest. "You may have gotten the drop on me but if the situations were reversed, you'd not be talking trash."

"And I'm not," The shadow scoffed. "You're disappointing me, Sly Cooper. You're capable of so much more than just sitting in there on your tail. Get up and get yourself out of there, dammit." To the stranger's words, Sly could only blink. He approached the bars and tugged on each one. None of them were loose. The raccoon then checked the walls for loose stones but there were none.

Sly glanced over his shoulder, noting that the shadow was still on the hallway floor. "Are you going to give me a hint or just expect me to magically transport onto the other side of these bars?"

The reply was simple. "You're an animal, use your instincts."

Sly blinked incredulously. "Do you want me to chew on them like a freakin' hamster or gerbil?" He then grinned again and said, "Oh, you're clever." He let the realization slap him in the face and laughed about it, reproaching the bars once more. There was a metallic rail that ran along the bars horizontally about six inches off the floor. Sly knelt down then frowned. "It's not much of a gap for my fat head, but I'll try it."

"You're a raccoon, for goodness sake," The shadow chortled softly. "You'll do just fine. If you'll pardon me, I have something else to take care of, or she'll be in here to patronize you again." The shadow dissipated, swirling into oblivion.

Sly pushed his head down to the ground but it wasn't enough of a gap to wiggle through. He was growing frustrated and moved left and right, trying to wiggle through but it just wasn't going to work. Now that the shadow was gone, he was more willing to try and work his magic, as he hated the feeling of being watched. Halfway down the row of bars, he stumbled on a loose tile in the floor.

It took a moment to pry the tile from the floor but he was quick to notice that the floor beneath the tile sunk downwards from an old flooded pipe that ran to the toilet at the back of the cell. It lowered into the floor only an inch or two but it was just enough for him to forcibly squeeze his head beneath the horizontal steel rail at the bottom of the bars. He grunted softly, wiggling forth but the bar was sure to bruise his shoulder blades and hips.

Flattening himself to the floor as best as he could, Sly continued forward, trying to use his paw to push the hilt of his tail down just enough to wiggle his hips through the small gap. He was pressing his crotch to the floor in a painful way and was nearly blushing in pain but eventually made it to the point where only his legs were left, which was the easy part. The door at the end of the hallway was kicked wide open and Sly glanced up, freezing instinctively for a split second.

Large, generic looking rhinos ran into the room but what really bothered Sly was the fact that they all looked identical to one another. They were wearing riot gear armor with face shields and Plexiglas shields on their arms. Sly used his paws to pull himself forward, drawing his legs out from the gap the rest of the way. He then rolled forward, coming up to his feet and putting his paws up in a defensive posture; it was time to rumble.

Of the four guards, one of them hung back to call for backup while the other three surrounded Cooper. Sly leapt upwards, planting his feet on the first guard's shoulders. He snatched the man's helmet and gripped the chin-guard strap then stood up straight, pulling the strap with all of his might.

The helmet now sat so low on the guard's head that he couldn't see out of it. Sly bent his knees then back-flipped off of the man's shoulders, performing one of his infamous spire jumps and landing directly upon the helmet of the second guard. He reached down and took the metallic headgear into his paws then flipped forward, not releasing the helmet.

He easily removed the chinstrap and used the helmet as a melee weapon on the third guard, smacking the rhino in the face with it. The horn that came out from beneath his plastic visor fell victim to the strike, denting the metal dome-shaped cover. Sly the lifted his left foot, tangling it in the third guard's belt and shifted his body so that he was standing horizontally on the third guard's stomach for a split second. The maneuver lasted long enough for Cooper to use the bent helmet again, smashing the second guard in the face with it, leaving a cut in his dry gray skin.

The Master Thief twisted his body in a way that caused his foot to unfasten the third guard's belt. Sly released the helmet and extended his paws, bounding off of them to get away from the group. As he wiggled out from between the three of them, the second guard was just lifting his hands to his face and the third guard's pants dropped straight to his ankles. Sly performed a handstand, pivoting about on his palm then kicked his lean legs out once more.

His right foot caught against the snaps of the second guard's gun holster, his left foot came up beneath the holster, kicking the gun upwards and out of the nylon sheath. The gun flew up into the air and Sly was quick to arch his back, performing a handstand-posture kippup. He landed on his feet and the weapon landed upside-down in his left paw.

He gave it a quick twirl then passed it to his right paw, so that it was facing right-side up. A flip of his thumb disengaged the safety and a tug of his index finger fired the weapon. The bullet ripped from the muzzle and shattered the first guard's shield from the center point where the handle was bolted into the powerful plastic, all the way to the top. Sly then fired off two more rounds, decimating the remaining two shields for Guard number two and three.

"Here, hold this," He said, throwing it at the second guard, who still wasn't wearing his helmet. It hit him in the forehead, causing him to stagger backwards. The gun bounced off of his head and Sly kicked his leg up in the air, striking the weapon with the bottom of his shoe. He successfully kicked it back up so that it struck the second guard in the face again, causing him to spiral backwards.

Sly then dropped to the floor in a gracefully executed split. His feet went between the first and third guard's ankles on either side of him. He would have punched upwards with both fists but he knew that a well armed riot soldier wore a cup to protect them. It was plainly obvious because the third guard's pants were around his shins and so the jockstrap was obviously visible on the outside of his underpants. Sly put his paw out and the gun fell back into it, holding it by the barrel like a hammer.

He reached the weapon out and hooked the butt of the gun into the strap of the protective cup then jerked back his arm to pull the cup away by its elastic straps. At about nine inches in distance, Sly pulled the gun downwards so that the handle came out from beneath the protective plastic piece which snapped back into place. The rhino shrieked in pain, doubling over into a fetal position. His horn was brought downwards, the point just inches from Sly's cheek. He then pushed his paws, gun included, down to the floor to lift his lower body and legs from the ground.

Doubled over, the third guard tripped over the pants at his ankles which was now wrapped up in Sly's shoe. He toppled over, lying besides the second guard, each cupping their hands over their wounds, face and crotch respectively. The first guard snatched Sly by his throat and lifted him up into the air with his powerful arm. Cooper put his feet on the soldier's shoulder and his left paw on the man's wrist.

The flexible raccoon arched his back hard, keeping one paw on the man's wrist and his feet on the man's shoulder. With very little trouble, he managed to pop the man's arm out of his shoulder socket then he placed one foot on the man's forehead and the other on the man's bicep. He did a loose backflip just as the first rhino's grip loosened from the painful separation of the ball from its joint.

The pressure of Sly's foot on the man's bicep only furthered the separation pain of dislocating his shoulder. Sly continued the pressure of his other foot against the man's forehead until he had enough leverage to flip his legs upwards into the air, come about and land on his feet, facing the guard with the gun in his right paw directly in the guard's face. "Stick'em up, cowboy," Cooper crowed with a grin.

The fourth guard got his call in for backup but he was already outnumbered by the gregarious and playful raccoon. Sly was pleased to be out of his cage and back into action although he immediately longed for his cane and didn't see it anywhere around himself. The fourth guard drew his handgun quickly and Sly was ready for it. He bent his legs then leapt upwards, arching back so that his head nearly touched his feet in midair. He kept his ankles together, exercising correct form and posture and craned his neck in the correct fashion.

Just as his eyes flitted into view of the fourth and final adversary, he saw the flash of the gun's muzzle. Sly dropped back to his feet _behind_ the first guard with the injured shoulder. The bullet clipped the man, hitting him in the ribs where his Kevlar jacket was available to do its job. Cooper stood up quickly and wrapped his arm around the first guard's neck, walking him forward as a body shield.

"Get… off of me!" The man shouted but with his arm hanging limp and his helmet strapped so tightly to his head that he couldn't see, he had no way to defend himself. Once the bullet clipped his jacket, he struggled that much harder to get away but he was still in shock and completely blinded from the helmet.

"Get off me!" Sly chirped back, shoving the rhino forward towards the fourth guard. "Ya know, I have a gun at your back, pal. Just keep walking, your buddy won't shoot you full of holes… at least you'd better hope not!"

"Why are you doing this? You're nothing but an egregious kleptomaniac!" The first guard shouted, being guided forth towards the fourth guard in the corner.

"Oh! Nice word usage, buddy!" Sly said, adding, "Don't your superiors tell you anything? I was minding my own business in Paris when your masters had me kidnapped. I'm escaping because I have to go and perform my civic duty; I plan to rescue France's TopCop, Carmelita Fox! You know, the really hot Latin vixen with the really big guns? Did you know she taught me how to shoot when we were dating a while back? I normally don't care much for guns but you know what they're _really_ good for?"

To Sly's amusement, the guard seemed pretty intelligent for a soldier grunt. "If you must know, I do not wish to acquiesce to your jaunty nattering, Raccoon."

"Oh," Sly said, sounding slightly disenchanted. Far from truly crestfallen, Sly secretly grinned then said, "I'll just show ya' then." He drew the gun back, flipped it about into his paw so that he was holding the barrel again, then clocked the guard in the back of his head with the butt of the handle. The Guard's eyes crossed beneath his helmet and a silly looking grin spread across his face. He cocked his head to the left then stiffened up, flopping forward.

Sly hurtled over the fallen guard and slung the pistol with all his might at the last remaining soldier. The pistol hit the man directly in his hand, knocking both guns to the floor. They clattered across the ground, landing just out of reach. Sly paused, putting his fists on his hips with his back straight and his shoulders broad, as if standing tall and proud. "It's just us; I only have a few seconds to render you unconscious before your backup arrives. If you're awake, you'll tell them which way I've gone, so I'm going to have to knock your butt out cold."

"I… uh," The fourth rhino pivoted to run but had apparently forgotten that he was backed into a corner. He slammed face first into a concrete wall, his horn leaving a chip in the painted cement. Dizzy, he stammered back where Sly was quick to take advantage of the situation. The raccoon, ever clever in the ways of grace and tact, simply reached up and placed his paw on the back of the man's neck.

The raccoon's supple fingertips pushed into the pressure spot on the rhino's shoulder, pinching a nerve. It was frighteningly painful and cut circulation of blood flow to his head. He gasped air into his lungs with which to scream but by the time he was ready to belt out a cry of pain, he was already unconscious. The perfect crooked released his paw from the crook of the guard's neck and guided him to the floor, gently. Cooper stood up and looked down at his paws then chuckled.

A pocket watch was dangling from his fingertips, having lifted it from the guard's body. He didn't even remember reaching for it; the act was simply second nature to have pulled off. The grinning raccoon couldn't help but let his expression melt into a devious looking smile in consideration of how easily the theft had happened. "Dang," He commented softly. "I'm so good I don't even realize it sometimes!" His tone served to voice his ego, something that only came out when it came to his thieving skills.

He looked around the room, starting with where the cell was then taking in how many doors were in the room. A storage closet was directly across from the cell; there were doors at either end of the hallway. The lights were dim but his nocturnal eyes put him in his element. Sly dropped to the floor, quickly rolling to a stop on his stomach. He put his ears to the floor and paused, first taking a deep breath to better muffle the sound of his own heart against the ground. Vibrations could be heard from the footfalls of approaching guards. The noise appeared to be coming from the door to his left; Sly hopped up and pivoted on his heel, heading for the door on his right.

It was time to make a ninja's exit and there wasn't much time left before Clockwerk would be finished. The protagonist thief made a mad dash for the door, trying to hurry before the guards swarmed the hallway from the other end. He swung the door open only for his heart to absolutely stop in his chest, mid-beat. Sly Cooper found himself face to face with a hauntingly beautiful-faced Lion.

The first words out of the man's mouth were simple, elegant and polite. "You may call me Sire," He said with a cheerful smile.

* * *

A/N: _OH NOES! Teh Sire has PWNed our HERO! zOMG WTF BBQ NOOB! Will LEET SLY HACKZOR TEH OMGbadguys! I DUNNO! Find out in the next chapter, yaw'll! kTHXbye! XD_

_-Kit_

_PS: My free trial of Microsoft Word 2003 expired today. I'll pick up a copy tonight, just know that I couldn't edit the thing and I'm tired as crap, so… Uh… you get a raw draft copy, unedited and completely rushed without me re-reading it because I'm in a lazy mood all of a sudden:D Still love me? _

_Yeah, I brought back all the bad guys, killed off all the doppelganger twins and made things simple and straight forward. We're back to square one, good guys verses the bad guys with no confusion! Now all Sly needs is his Cane back, his relationship back and to put Clockwerk back into the trashcan. But now that Slick Cooper was released earlier than he should have been, will that factor in things differently for our heroes or will they go back down the same path and get themselves killed again? Let's hope that Bentley and Carmelita were smart enough to have altered the course of the past just enough that it plays out differently and that their futures are secured… who knows, I'm pretty devious:D At least they have Donovan Loupe on their side early on and uninjured! In some ways, things are looking up for our heroes! Let's just see how Carmelita does, after all, she was the one who kicked Karla and Donovan's butt the first time through… without her, can anybody stop Karla? We'll find out soon! I promise:D_

_THANKS FOR YOUR PATIENCE! _


	25. Sire! Again for the first time!

Chapter -25-

Sire, again for the first time

* * *

"**I** **don't think I've properly introduced** myself, Mister Sly Cooper," Said Sire, not yet engaging his powerful aura. "I'm not just the man to whom you may address as Sire, my dear boy; I'm the man you may consider 'undefeatable' by every means of the word." He approached Sly just as the group of guards dashed into the hallway from the other end of the room. He put one paw up, signaling them to hold off their attack. They came to a stop and waited, weapons ready. The effeminate lion then placed an arm around Sly Cooper's shoulders and began to walk with him. "Sly, you're an important man to me and I brought you here for many reasons."

"What's making you act so buddy-buddy to me?" Sly asked, being led away from the door he wanted desperately to utilize. "I've stolen nothing from you that you haven't already gotten back. From me, you've stolen a blood sample and you've stolen a piece of my pride and ego and then you tried to take my girl away. So, tell me Mister Sire, why are we being chums all of a sudden?"

"You have a pendant that I want to use in my personal affairs," Sire said, guiding Sly down the hallway, slowly. The guards separated, making a space for the two to pass through. The lion continued, adding, "It guarantees that the woman who possesses it will be fertile and give birth to a child, no matter who the woman is. The desire I have is simple: I want one of my super natural associates to experience the joy of birth. We'd even consider returning it once she delivers, do you understand my situation?"

"Well," Sly said, knowing exactly where this was going after the team had been briefed by the future version of Carmelita. "I'll make a trade for it," He said, just playing the game with grace and tact. "You hand over the man who is rebuilding Clockwerk so that I can hang him by his toes for a few weeks and then you hand over the parts being manufactured to make this new Clockwerk. Then, you walk away and give me A) space, and…then you give me: B) Carmelita. Even after you've given me all these things, you then give me: C) let my gang head home. After that, I'll express-ship the amulet to you and you can use it on loan."

"Not good enough Sly," Sire said, still repressing his temper. "Steven is a special friend of mine. I can't hand him over to you and, if you must know, part of him disagrees with the Clockwerk project _any_ how." Sire didn't want to reveal his intentions for the new Clockwerk body, but he wasn't going to give up the parts _or_ the builder, who _happened_ to be a _clone_ of the _real_ Steven. His plan went beyond Sly's comprehension. Sire continued the explanation, saying, "I need the Clockwerk parts for another project but I'm not dispatching him to kill you or your future family unless you try to stop us.

"See Sly, it's like this: I have the power to take your life, the life of your family and the life of your future family. I've done it before, I could easily do it again. I deployed him to take your father to the grave and bring me back anything the Cooper clan holds sacred because I wanted that pendant. I sent Doctor Mobius to obtain the pendant and so-too did Doctor M. fail me horribly. Now I'm trying it the peaceful and diplomatic way… I'm asking you, please, hand it over so we can all walk away from this."

Sly didn't know what to think. His heart began to beat faster and his racing pulse caused him to struggle with breathing properly. He attempted to remain passive and calm but this man just openly admitted to sending Clockwerk out to kill his father. Sire continued speaking. He told the raccoon, "I would hate for another episode to happen where _another_ Cooper dies just because I lose my temper. I've tried to obtain this pendant for a _very_ long time, Sly. Simply handing it over will end your family curse of being haunted by Clockwerk and other such evils. It will be over. You'll be free to live your life; you can even resume your relationship with Carmelita Fox, if you wish. You give me what I want and I'll make it all stop."

Sly blinked, turning to Sire with semi-narrowed eyes. "The Cooper line has always glanced up at the sky on clear nights, just to make sure there weren't a set of talons and wings silhouetted against the moon. It's been something we've done for generations and you're telling me that every single occurrence led back to your whim?"

"_Every_ single time, Sly." Sire smiled, keeping his arm around the raccoon. Sly was trying his hardest not to shake on the inside but it was difficult not to contain himself. He was walking with the man who admitted guilt to the murder of countless Cooper thieves. This man was in desperate need of punishment and here he was. The two exited the hallway on the far end, taking the door to the stairwell. They went down the steps, one at a time, heading away from the guards. "Are you going to help me or am I going to kill you and penetrate your family's vault for myself?"

"You can't," Sly said, coldly. "Bentley and Penelope designed the _perfect_ vault. Even a Cooper can't crack that safe; we can only open it the proper way. If you kill me, you don't get your heirloom. If you want one, buy a _knockoff_ at the _gift shop_."

"You disappoint me," Sire said, shaking his head. The two arrived on the first floor, walking out into the lobby. Sly glanced around, seeing twenty guards lined against the left, right, front and rear wall. Twenty men in total, five against each wall, with automatic weapons trained on Cooper's head. Tiny red dots danced above his brow as every one of them were locked onto him from the moment they left the stairwell. "I've given Slick Cooper your staff. He'll figure out how to open the vault and you will die, my friend. If you try to escape, my men will remove your head. If you change your mind at _any_ time, please let me know."

"What if they miss and hit you?" Sly asked with a smirk.

"I'm a supernatural, Sly," Sire replied with a pleasant tone. "I won't die. It will sting a bit, but in a few days, you wouldn't even know I'd been shot."

"Lucky you," Sly muttered, still bottling the boiling rage in his gut over the fact that he now had a face and a name with which he could place in conjunction to the Cooper Curse of Clockwerk. He then stopped walking, putting out one paw, across Sire's chest, to stop the lion. Sire turned to face him and Sly, in turn, did the same. He put his paws on the Sire's blazer, using his fingertips to fix a wrinkle he left in the man's satin shirt. He then ran his paws over the collar of the blazer, making it nice and neat. "Listen, we don't need to have any animosity between us, over this little 'oops'; it's in the past, what's done is done, right? We're amigos, here; it's all been one big misunderstanding and we can certainly work this out with an admirable ending, right?"

"Indeed," Sire said, placing his paws behind his back, his left wrist snug in his right palm. "There must be a way we can solve this entire situation and settle my little obsession without killing the last member of the line."

"Agreed," Sly said, attempting to stifle the intense emotion that was welling up in his chest. It was difficult but he also didn't want to be killed for making a stupid act. It would be a very dismal and ugly ending to a line of people who swore by grace, agility and tact. "So what is _your_ super power, Sire?" Without skipping a beat, Sly pat the man's chest as if to indicate that the suit was now picture perfect, then drew his paws back, folding them behind his back the exact same way that Sire had done.

"You don't want to see me use my abilities," Sire said with an air of promise. "Let's just say that no other super natural being has been able to stand up to me or my power and that is why I am their leader."

"I'm very impressed," Sly noted casually. In the paws, behind his back, he was now holding a wallet, two rings, a necklace and a pendant of unidentified origin. He kept them hidden but it didn't last long.

"Sire!" one of the guards cried, "He has something in his paws, behind his back!" The man snitched.

"It's a bad reflexive habit," Sly said with a corny smile. "I heard it was important!" he added, suddenly drawing his paws forward, tossing only the wallet back at the lion. The rings were now on his fingers, along with the necklace and pendant which were wrapped around his left and right wrist, respectively. The lion's eyes widened and he suddenly threw the powerful aura into full swing, radiating with intense beauty and demanding incredible awe from everyone in the room.

Sly balled his paws into fists, squinting as if bright lights were being shined into his face. The world around him began to distort like being on a bad drug trip but the power of the pendant he'd swiped kept him from dropping to his belly like a mere worm. The guards were unable to fire, blinded by the incredible charisma and the intensity of Sire's commanding and authoritative majesty.

It took every fiber of his being to keep from lying down. Unfortunately for Sly, that meant he was no longer able to channel his will into retaining his temper. His first instinct was to lunge for the condescendingly patrician cat. His eyes seemed to melt into a leering gaze, locked onto Sire's aristocratic features. He wanted to snap the man's neck and now only had the will to either stay standing or release the bottled up rage.

"Kneel before me," Sire whispered softly. His tone was tender and pleasant but it only enraged the raccoon further. Seeing that Sly was able to resist, now having stolen the pendant of willpower, he knew that his only other option was to have the raccoon executed. The powerful aura suddenly dissipated and the Bishonen raised his voice to the room. "FIRE UPON THE TARGET!" The twenty guards scrambled to their feet, locked on and opened fire.

Cooper's only chance at survival was a powerful Cooper ability handed down the line by his ancestors: The ultra-sneaky, mind boggling ability to slow down time. It was simulated, really. Everything happened in Sly Cooper's mind; his focus was increased by a great deal and his concentration skills were put to rigorous use. He became aware of every thing around him. Without his cane, he was helpless to defend himself against incoming bullets, but he still had the ability to evade them and so he began to bend his knees… slowly, the raccoon crouched to the ground. Scrambling soldiers on all sides were aiming their weapons and at almost all the same time, the front of their weapons flashed into a cascade of twinkling lights that surrounded the Master Thief from every direction. His body began to rise, slowly launching himself upwards.

His eyes reflected the bright flashes, bullets began to fly forth, and he could even see the incredibly slight distortion of wake behind each round. His clothing was skin-tight so as not to collect air or billow up as he ducked into a somersault. The delicate ballet was a lethal dance that needed to be picture-perfect or he would die very quickly as a crumpled bloody pulp on the floor. Bullets lanced out and one even managed to pass through his blue sweater, half of a millimeter from his left hip. A sharp pain followed the mere paper cut-like wound but it wasn't over yet. His legs were inverted, opposite from his head, and his body flip-flopped in mid air. The world slowly rotated around him and he craned his head just an inch to see where there would be an open space. He saw two passing bullets and began to extend his legs, effectively ending the somersault while aiming to stay between the two rounds, parallel to one another in course.

As soon as he hit the floor, he bounced upwards again but it seemed like several minutes before he was airborne once more. Cooper bounded towards the door with a dull, resonant roar in the background; Sire was shouting to stop the raccoon but his words came out as a deep, slow, resonating noise with no definition or meaning. Sly reached his paws out, pushing them against centrifugal force as he spun through the air. His padded palms touched upon the shoulders of a guard at the other end of the room and he began the ridiculously tedious dissention maneuver. There, suspended on the guard's shoulders, doing a handstand in slow motion, bullets ripped through the air, piercing that soldier's bulletproof vest, his neck, his head and tearing through the thin space between Cooper's arms and the Rhino's ears.

Sly arched his back and came down to his feet, facing the wall, behind the soldier. The weight of the man could be felt as he toppled back against Sly, back to back, shoulder to shoulder for an instant. Sly then put his left foot out against the wall he was facing and began to walk up it, his shoulders still against the shoulders of the dying soldier behind him. The world continued on in slow motion, demanding Sly's intense concentration. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold up as the demand of focus was a draining need.

If he'd had his cane, he would have performed the good ole' smoke trick then vanished along the ceiling or something. He didn't have that luxury and yet the thought of Slick Cooper having obtained his staff was almost humiliating. Bullets riddled the walls on all sides of the room and yet their expert marksmanship made Sire the safest person, standing in the center of the room.

Sly bounded back over the guard, throwing his body into a half-twist so that he landed on his feet, now facing the center of the room. He looked back at Sire from about 10 feet away. A bullet approached the raccoon's face but continued to slow until it came to a complete stop, only three inches from his nose. His eyes reflected the object and he simply stared at it in disbelief. Everything in the room had come to a complete and total stop.

"Aw, you've just made a fatal error, Amigo!" Called out a voice. "You landed in front of the guard, si? Now you take a bullet to the face, muchacho; it's not pretty, Senor. The thing is, if you died, Carmelita Fox would be pretty pissed off, no?" A man stepped, literally, from the folds of space and time, bringing himself into full view of Sly Cooper. The Spanish-looking gentleman placed his paws upon his hips and shook his head slowly. "Look at you; slyer than a fox and sleeker than a stealth jet… and yet here you are, about to take a bullet into your fuzzy little Cabeza; it's not fitting of an ending for the likes of you, Senor."

"Who… are you?" Sly asked, his eyes still on the bullet that would spell out his death faster than a heartbeat could occur… had it not been frozen in time, that is. The man approached Sly, plucking the bullet out of mid air. He strained his arm, turning the tiny dome-shaped shell about in his fingertips.

The Hispanic gentleman smiled a bit. "I don't see your name on it, or is that just a figure of speech?"

"You've got me," Sly said with a nervous chuckle. "So who are you?"

"Here," said Poliandro, tossing the shell at Sly. Cooper caught it, grunting in surprise at the weight of the round, which still held every pound of momentum and inertia. "Could you imagine it, Senor Cooper? Penetrating your nose, Si? It passes through your nasal cavity, continues to burrow deep into the flesh and sinew and cartilage and all that gooey stuff; I'm not a doctor, am I saying it right?"

"Uh…" Sly's jaw dropped just slightly. The Spanish man simply continued with a shrug.

"Then it goes deep, breaking through your skull and blasting through the soft gray matter of your brain, muchacho. It rips out through the back of your head and hits the wall, splattering the slumping guard, behind you, and the wall behind him, with a just… freakin'… macabre display of rojo, Amigo! It splatters in gooey chunks of meat and …just _wow_, man. Every-t'ing you know, Senor! Just little giblets of flesh, blasted all over the wall of a bank, man! All because of a nine millimeter parabellum round from a light weight submachine gun, my friend! Look at this! MP5, great gun!" The man said, pointing at one of the nearby guards who were holding their weapons, 19 remaining guns aimed directly at Sly Cooper.

Sly opened his mouth and said the first thing to come to his mind. "You've a real talent for descriptions; have you considered a career as a horror writer?" He glanced back to the bullet in his paw then turned around and placed it onto the nose of the guard that was slumping to the ground, behind him. "Freaky."

"I cannot tell you who I am," said the man. "I've done too much by showing myself to you. I'm a guardian who stops people from going through time and rewriting important segments of the past. What would happen if Britain won the revolutionary war against America? Who knows, but I can't let anyone find out. The last two people to pass through the gates of time are now dead, Amigo. They died trying to save _you_, did you know that?"

"Bentley and Carmelita?" Sly asked, blinking rapidly.

"Dios Mio!" Said Raul, throwing his paws into the air. "I asked them not to tell you but, sheesh, I guess you were going to figure it out when there were two of them, Si? Anyway, that was a pretty fancy little run you had, evading all these bullets for as long as you did. Very impressive but you made a wrong step in your dance and if you die, Carmelita would have a cow. Now, she _is_ dead, so technically, she wouldn't come after me and shout; aye-yie-yie, what a temperamental vixen but she is one hot, foxy momma!"

"Yeah," Sly agreed with a casual nod, still a little freaked out by the fact that there were multiple bullets flying through the air and most of them were bearing on him as their target. "So did I lose? Am I dead and this is what happens in the afterlife? Someone comes up and shows you how stupid your last step looked?"

"Nah," Said the man. "You're not dead, Amigo. I might get into trouble for helping you but hey, my job gives me the prerogative, Si? I'm down for saving the world, too! If they succeed, time ends. If there is no one left to measure linier time, then it doesn't necessarily exist. I'd be out of a job, Amigo. If you have the power to stop all of this crazy nonsense then I have got to give you at least one chance. But remember! I gave your two buddies one chance and they fowled it all up, Senor Cooper. They're dead, man. They're nothing but cold corpses on a floor, hombre, so here is your one chance. Don't screw up, eh?"

"Th-thanks," Sly said, cocking his brow. "So you're just going to move this one bullet and let me make a break for the door?"

"Heck no," Raul chuckled. "You'd never make it. The second you got through the door, The Sire would throw his power back on you and pick up a gun to do the deed himself. _His_ mistake was trusting his guards to do the dirty work when he was fully capable of doing it himself, Si? Si! No, Senor, I'm going to do much better," he said, waving his paw at Sly. "C'mon, Amigo!" He walked back towards the other end of the Lobby, where the main exit was located. He turned the knob and opened the door where suspended flakes of snow were trapped in mid air, just beyond the opened arch. "Stand out here and I'll restart the clock. Make your escape but don't mess up again, buddy. I got my tail reamed by the big boss for helping your two friends. I don't give second chances, comprende? Here's a suggestion!" He said, giving Sly a manly slap on the shoulder. "Don't go up against this man ever again, especially if he has a room full of guards! He outsmarted you! But hey, at least you got his pendant and walked away, Si? Now, get going!"

Sly stepped through the door and as soon as the cold hit him, the room behind him came to life. An explosion of sound was heard from behind and the flakes of snow began to fall again. Sire caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head just in time to see Sly magically teleport from one end of the room to the other, stepping through the door with ease and disappearing into the streets of Prague by night. Sire balled up his fists, knowing of only one individual capable of teleporting a person to safety. The word blasted from his throat, screaming the name in anger. "KARLA!" While his assumption was misplaced, he knew that she was still attempting to seduce the raccoon.

* * *

**Carmelita, an Ex-Inspector for the **International Police force, lay in a hospital bed. Her eyes were vertical slits, leering into the dim illumination of her room, to better gaze at her enemy. Slick Cooper was leaning on the cane of his 'twin', his chin on his wrist, supported by the tip of the cane. He simply smiled at her for a few minutes before saying, "Gosh, you're beautiful, lady. At least, you are to me."

"How frickin' flattering you are," Carmelita muttered, keeping her paws balled into fists. His very presence was an insult to her. "I know who you are and when I get out of this bed, I'll kill you with my own paws. Who knows, maybe it'll feel _really_ good."

"Promises, promises," Slick chided, chittering his soft laughter in a way slightly different from Sly. "It's a shame I promised myself to Karla. She has you beat in physical perfection but not every man wants _too_ perfect of a woman. Now, see, _you_ are right down my alley. I could totally go for a lady like yourself," He told her with a smirk.

"So help me, if I have to get out of this bed, I'll break your neck with my own bare paws, this very instant," She said with a hint of promise in her voice. "My suggestion is that you go the hell away… Quickly."

"Oh but Inspector Fox," Slick said, approaching her bed with a devious sort of draw to his step, slow and steady in his movement. He drew into proximity of her body and leaned over her like a lone rainy cloud, his teeth sparkling with the whitest smile possible. "I'll still think of you when I go to bed with Karla. Does that make you jealous? Knowing that I'll be pressed firmly to another woman? That I'll have my paws exploring _her_ body and that I'll draw in _her_ scent as I take her in my arms in a way you can't possibly fathom?"

Carmelita felt awkward. "Get the hell away from me," She groused softly. "It's really amusing that you're going out of your way to stifle your own jealousy knowing that I was once the mate of _Sly Cooper_. Oh, wait, you didn't know? We had a relationship over a year ago, shortly after he gave up his thieving ways for me. I suppose you'll never know what it's like to have my head nuzzling into that special little spot of your chest, just beneath your arm. I guess you'll never learn what it feels like to have my tail coiled around your ankles to keep them warm on a winter's night, watching the hearth dance before our eyes. What a shame, hmm? You're so young, it's something you couldn't possibly fathom," She replied. Carmelita was quick witted and ready to play this game in reply. Her awkwardness melted away as Slick was put into his place. It may have been true that she was a virgin, as was Sly Cooper, but it was obvious that this man was a Virgin too, especially since he'd only been alive for so many hours beyond a single day. She gave an innocent looking smile.

Now it was the clone's turn to feel somewhat awkward. He'd been programmed to speak, read and write. He'd been artificially loaded with his intelligence and a lifetime-worth of knowledge. The problem was, he had never experienced affection and had no pre-fabricated memories of it and so he was curious of such. Also, the idea appealed to him and it made him lust for that everyday sort of love… even more. Suddenly, the cellular telephone on Slick's hip went off. He lifted his right paw, extending a single index digit to silence her, then flipped the phone off of his hip with his right paw, bringing it to his ear.

"Yes?" Slick asked, waiting for the reply on the other end. After a few minutes of listening, Slick face-faulted then drew the cellphone back into his palm, gave it a fancy twirl and replaced it within the holster on his hip. "I've got to go, Mon Ami! But I shall leave you with a palindrome that will give you just a hint of what is to come, as I love giving the huntress a clue!"

"Oh?" Carmelita asked, narrowing her eyes.

"But it's up to you to solve the rest!" Slick chuckled. "A man, a plan, a …something that begins with a letter … as in… _see_ you later! That is your hint; good luck my dear! That little bit should tell you what will happen, to what, in where! I'm off to rescue my mate, as I am her new knight in shining….fur!" He backed his way towards the hospital window, reaching his cane over his shoulder to open it… He then used his free paw to blow a kiss at Carmelita then back-flipped out the window, which flopped shut behind him, with a thud. There were no fingerprints; he was gone just like that.

"A man, a plan, A… something that begins with 'see'," She repeated to herself, quietly. "All right, easy enough: The letter 'C'. But what begins with the letter 'c' that tells me the rest of this hint?" She asked aloud. Her head was cloudy from the pain medication that was given to her to keep her from hurting after the surgery. Her paw reached down, beneath the sheets and drew out her Binoc-u-com and opened a frequency that connected her with Bentley, who helped lead her into the Bank yesterday. (A/N: _Remember when she broke into the bank way back the first time around?_)

Bentley, on the other end of the unit, was quick to pick up, the glassy reflection in his glasses keeping her from actually seeing the pupils of his eyes. "Normally I wouldn't call to ask your help," She began, adding, "But you got me into the bank yesterday without getting killed; I think I'm just going to ask your help again… just this once. This clone of Sly just gave me a clue he called a palindrome. The clue is, '_A man, a plan, a C…'_ where 'C' is the first letter of a word that finishes the palindrome. I'm doped up on a pain medication and can't think clearly. Can you figure it out for me?"

Bentley nodded and said, "Yes ma'am, Miss Fox but if we're working together again, this means we're on the same side, right?"

"If you guys can go one 'caper' without breaking the law, then we'll be in good shape," Carmelita replied. "Now, how does this thing work?"

"Well," Bentley began, doing something with his hands just off the small screen. She could hear the tapping of keys as he typed the words out. "C-a-n-a-l-p-a-n-a-m-a" is what I get if I spell it backwards, from what he's given us so far. Ca, nalp, a, nam A is how it goes, exactly backwards. A palindrome is simply a word or phrase that is exactly the same, backwards or frontward, like the word RACECAR or BOB."

"I'm an international Inspector, Bentley," She snapped, adding, "I know what a palindrome is. I am just too doped up on pain medications to think clearly right now."

Bentley then snapped his fingers and chuckled, "This was an easy one; Slick made it _too_ easy! I hope he's not trying to throw you off track, Inspector."

"Solve it," She muttered.

Bentley shrugged, causing his shell to rise and fall with the gesture. "A man, a plan, a Canal: Panama!"

"So they may have plans to head to the Panama Canal next," Carmelita said. "However, you're telling me that it _could_ be disinformation on his part and to back off of that lead?"

"Call Interpol about it," Bentley suggested. "Have them look into the area."

Carmelita shook her head slowly. "I'm not exactly on best terms with them right now. They won't even pay the insurance for my medical bill, today. Right now, we're on our own. If we ignore it and he was just having fun by making sure I show up to his next gig, we could be losing a huge lead."

"It's difficult to say, for sure," Bentley agreed. "I'm going to cut this conversation short, Miss Fox. If you'll excuse me, we just found my future-self dead and I'm a little rattled by it. We're over here preparing for the worst. Also, I heard you… shot yourself to stop your future doppelganger from being taken over by Karla Chintzy?"

"…Yes," Carmelita muttered softly. "She'd been injured and worn down; I drained enough blood from my body with a gunshot that I might be able to pull through but she'd already lost plenty in prior battles and that extra two pints caused my future body to shut down. She passed away, quietly, on a floor back at the bank. Not exactly where I plan to spend eternity when I kick the bucket so we'd better change history, Bentley. Going back in time and both of us still get killed. This is it, we have no other choice; for ourselves, for Sly and the rest of your gang. We _have_ to succeed."

Bentley nodded slowly and said, "I agree wholeheartedly. I'll see what I can find out about Panama to see if it's dis-info, or not."

"Do that. Carmelita-out." She closed the communicator and laid back in her bed with a sigh. "I can't believe I'm working with criminals just to save my job. What did I do to get caught up with these scoundrels?" She muttered aloud.

"It's because you still love me," Came a voice from off to the rear left. Sly Cooper was sitting, perched, on a hat rack off to the left side of her bed. She craned her head to look up at him, blinking in surprise. Her heart nearly jumped free of her chest and part of her wondered if Sly may have overheard her bragging about her romance with him to Slick.

"How long have you been here?" She exclaimed, glaring at him.

"A few seconds. I've come to report a thief, Officer. The man is carrying a cane that belongs to me; he stole it and I would like to enlist your help in retrieving this family heirloom."

"Oh? Someone talented enough to steal from _you_?" She asked, her interest piqued. Sly, in defense, held up his paws to show her that he'd taken Sire's rings. She simply rolled her eyes and said, "They're not your style, Cooper. I didn't know you were one to wear jewelry, anyhow. But I'm still shocked that someone stole something from _you_. What good is it to be a _master thief_ if someone can steal from ya?"

"Well, I was attacked and it was taken; so I guess I should report an assault and battery in conjunction to a theft," Sly said, allowing his lingo to return to the way she'd taught him to speak when he was working under her as Constable Cooper, just a year or so in the past. "I want that really beautiful, intelligent Inspector to work my case. I've worked with that one before and she seems like the kind of person who works the case until the job is done."

"Oh? I'm sorry but I can't honor your request, Mister," Carmelita said, lightly flirting in reply. "She has been suspended from Interpol. Her badge has been revoked. Is there anyone else who can solve your problems?"

"Hmm," Sly said, tapping his chin with a paw. "I wonder if she works alone as a Private Investigator for hire…"

"It's possible," Carmelita replied, watching him. He was a beautiful man. She knew he was doing what he did to punish other criminals but he still broke the law just often enough that she always saw him as a target. But now, he was the victim. He was bending the law to survive but not breaking it for his own desire. For once, she saw him as a victim and _almost_ felt sorry for him. He'd been abducted, had his family cane stolen from him and didn't ask to be a part of _any_ of this. Of course, she also _didn't_ know that he had stolen a chip from a computer terminal in Lyon, France. She also didn't know that it was to become the future Hate-Chip of the new Clockwerk, currently in construction. However, she could smell a crime a mile a way.

"Sly, how did you wind up in this mess?" She tilted her head, pointing to the bed. He dropped from the hat rack and approached her, sitting down on the mattress besides her legs. "Please, be honest. I need to put all the pieces together."

"You're not going to like the answer," he told her with a frown. The raccoon settled on the bed, placing a paw on her right knee. She smiled just slightly but lowered her face, so that he couldn't see it as well. He then said, "It all ties in to the reason I left you." Her face faulted and she gazed back up, frowning at him. Maybe it was the pain medication, but she'd forgotten about the humiliation and shame of that incident for just a moment. Now he threw it back in her face but she let him continued. "Well," Sly continued, looking down at his paw on her leg. "I wanted to start by apologizing to you for that."

"Whatever," She replied, using her left paw to motion for him to continue.

"Yeah, so," Sly shrugged slightly and went into his explanation. "I found out through the grapevine that another Clockwerk was under construction. Clockwerk has always been used to terrorize my family and their loved ones. Being in a relationship with you meant that he would come for you and kill you and our future children, if that were to happen."

"I… see," Carmelita said, feeling awkward knowing that he actually thought their past relationship through to a level that was deeper than she'd thought he was capable of. "Go on. What've you done, Sly."

"I found out that the badguys were using Interpol to keep the new Clockwerk HateChip from being found or destroyed. It was used to power some sort of computer server that would tie Interpol's field agents together with an information service previously unavailable to the cops in the field. The plan was for the bad guys to give the server a trial run then swap the chips when it was moved out of Lyon and the bad guys would take the chip and put it into the new Clockwerk. However, Bentley helped me to steal it and swap the chip for a dummy that Bentley designed. They would steal the dummy and not know it… and that dummy chip would be placed into the new Clockwerk and would have a special virus encoded into it. The new Clockwerk would destroy himself and it would be over before it even got started."

"So you stole from Interpol," Carmelita replied with a sigh.

"…Yes." Sly was concise and honest with her.

"Goddammit," She muttered. Theft was theft; reporting that information to _her_ was what he _should_ have done, but she didn't fault him for trying to protect her. She could tell he was being honest by the expression on his face and the look in his eyes. "Why didn't you just tell me so I could have gone in there, taken the chip and filed a report to hold it as evidence? It would have stalled the bad guys; we could have replaced the chip and let the paperwork bog it down until an investigation could be completed."

"I'm sure they thought of that," Sly said, shaking his head slowly.

"Oh yeah?" Carmelita challenged him, folding her arms. "What makes you think that?"

"You were suddenly and mysteriously _suspended_?" Sly reminded her, folding his arms in reply, copying her. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. It all made sense now; she was suspended so that she couldn't stop this from happening, should Sly go directly to her and tell her what he'd learned. These bad guys knew that Sly had found out and so they were covering their bases. It all made sense, now. The attack on the café where here and Sly fought side by side the other day… that was their way of trying to silence Sly Cooper _before_ he could tell Carmelita _or_ try to steal the chip, himself. They attacked _her_ because they were trying to score a two-for-one special and silence _both_ Sly _and_ her. The epiphany made her gasp, even though she was particularly foggy from the pain medication. It was just that cut and dry that, even doped up, she was able to put all the pieces together like simple arithmetic.

"Oh… my… Goodness," She muttered softly.

"Yeah, pretty deep huh? We were at the center of someone else's conspiracy and we didn't even ask for _any_ of this to happen. _WE_ were the victims here, Carmelita. They went out of their way to keep us apart, to keep us from communicating and working together and then they even went so far as to try and kill us so they could continue with their plans without any 'hiccups' but… we survived this far and now we're going to give them _more_ than just a hiccup; we're going to give them indigestion from hell."

"You once said you loved me, a few weeks after we beat Doctor M. together. Was it a lie, like your loss of memory?"

"No, I did that because I was afraid you wouldn't accept me any other way," Sly replied. "Yes, it was hard to put down my family heritage but I did it for you because you're all I could think of when I was seconds from death in the claws of Doctor M's beast."

"That's… Carmelita looked away, mumbling the word, "Sweet, Sly. It really is, but you _did_ lie to me. And you did steal again. This time, I'm going to demand a solemn vow from you that you won't steal again, if we decided to rekindle this relationship."

Cooper gave it a moment of thought then smiled a bit with a slow nod. "I can make that promise if you can admit to me that you've been in love with me for a _long_ time," Sly replied.

"Don't push your luck," Carmelita snapped, frowning fiercely. "One thing at a time, Mister. And you've _still_ lied and stolen. That's worse than cheating, if you ask me."

"Carmelita," Sly said with a soft sigh and a frown. "I'm sorry I deceived you. Yes, I'm still in love with you and who knows, I may always be, even if you don't return it. I didn't mean to make you feel like I've handed back your feelings by leaving you without a word but I knew if I told you Clockwerk was involved, you'd come after me and we'd both get killed. Who knows, it's possible that in some other world or time, we _did_ face him together… but I bet your bottom dollar that we both got smeared." (A/N: _chapter 18_)

"Sly," Carmelita sighed again, shaking her head slowly. "That's just silly. We beat him twice before and _both times_ it had to be done _together_. That's your problem, Cooper… you have a hard time trusting others you care about."

"That's not true," Sly said defensively. "I trust Bentley and Murray and I couldn't have gotten through some of these jobs without their help. I know they're putting their lives on the line and yet I put my full and complete trust in them."

"Yeah well," Carmelita trailed off. She leaned up in bed, put her paw on his shoulder then gave him a shove. "We're arguing. What happened to your golden rule of dating? I'm always right, even when I'm wrong? Huh? Answer that one for me."

"Are we dating again?" Sly asked, unfolding then refolding his arms over his chest, trying not to smile at her playful shove. The serious look on his face made her suddenly chuckle. Sly cocked an eyebrow in confusion and Carmelita simply lost it. Silvery peels of beautiful laughter rang out, causing Sly to smile. He'd not heard her laughter in quite some time and it was a stunningly beautiful thing to his ears. In fact, it melted his heart and stole it right from his chest. "I'm going after Slick to get my cane back. Let's not die because we might not survive long enough to go back in time and fix it again. And… we'll do it your way: Together."

Carmelita's laughter came to a pause to hear him out then she smiled in reply to his words. "Together. It has a nice ring to it, _ringtail_. Don't screw this up; this is your last chance. Don't lie to me or steal anything else, unless it already belongs to you. Promise me."

"I… I promise," Sly said, offering his paw to her. She took his paw and what began as a shake turned into a light hug. He was careful not to hug her too tightly as she was bandaged up from a bullet hole in her torso. He concluded the gesture of trust by kissing her cheek then her paw. "And I won't argue with you anymore." He stood up from the bed and looked her over one last time.

"Why, are we dating again?" She asked, this time throwing Sly's words back at him with a devious smirk to remind him just how clever she could be. "We'll figure that out on another day. Let's live through this one, first."

"Fair enough," He replied.

"Slick left, he went out the window and he's off to find Karla Chintzy. _Don't_ let them double-team you. Stay smart about it, one wrong move could kill you, Sly."

"Don't I know that," He replied, remembering how the Hispanic guardian of time was quick to flaunt it in his face that he nearly died to a bullet by simply making the wrong move. He then headed for the window, opened it and looked down into the alley. "No footprints; damn he's good. What thief would want to leave tracks in the snow, right? All right, I'm off; don't hurt yourself again… please?"

"I promise," She replied. "I won't go shooting myself again; we're going to make it through this, Sly. Keep your nose clean… Constable Cooper." To her words, Sly gave a half-smile then opened the window that Slick used for an escape.

"I have one more thing to admit to you, before I go," Sly told her.

She braced her heart and her temper and said, "Spit it out."

"This fight with the leader of the bad guys, he calls himself THE SIRE; don't go near him, he'll kill you quickly. My fight with him is _very_ personal as he is the reason my mother and father were murdered. Please, I'm begging you, don't intervene with that one; it's between me and him and it's something I have to do alone. Please, just respect that about me; I have to take this guy out by myself. No help from you, Bentley, Murray; anyone. It's between me and him, that's it."

"…As you wish; I'll indulge you, just this once," Carmelita replied softly. Sly gave her another soft smile and hooked his thumb back at the window with a light, airy chuckle. He meandered towards it and hooked his thumb back at it once more with a light, almost nerdy chuckle. Cooper then dashed out through it. It was time to find his cane and take out the bad guys…

* * *

A/N: _Wow, it was ALMOST a romantic scene but instead, it was just flirting on the edge of the line. Will Sly and Carmelita resume the relationship they began after Sly3: Honor Amongst Thieves concluded or will he do something to upset her and cause her to distrust him again? I won't tell you until near the end of the story! HAHA! Really, I don't KNOW yet… So that's why. ;) Let's hope he doesn't inadvertently break her trust in him again… and let's hope they don't die together, again! All right, I'm off! Take care! New chapter up when I can get it written! See ya soon!_

_-kit_


	26. Down With The Sickness

A/N: _This chapter may be a little rough for the weak of heart and stomach. It may be a little rough for anyone who has personally gone through this situation and, for those of you who have and survived, I'm sorry if it strikes any personal nerves. Please, remember that this is just a fictional character and while she's on the brink, I don't kill Canon characters for good. They're not mine to kill, ya know? Chapter 27 is already half finished and will be posted soon. Also, I have a question for everyone and I want an answer!_

_If Carmelita pulls through this, who should she track down first? Slick or Karla? And why? LET ME KNOW!

* * *

_

Chapter -26-  
The Sickness

**The Binoc-u-com was lowered** back to Sly's pocket. His eyes cut from left to right, remembering Bentley's warning. He was usually good to heed his friend's advice but part of him wanted his friends to stay out of this; they were killed in the future and he didn't want that to happen again. His eyes bounced from left to right, watching Slick Cooper perform complex acrobatic maneuvers in order to ascend the side of a hotel wall.

Sly had a different idea, this time around. He decided to walk right in the front door and play it Bogart. No cane, no shock pistol; all he had was his cunning and his grace. He picked the lock then kicked the doors wide open. There was an empty chair in the night window office, leaving Sly to grow curious. He continued forward, into the hallway, his eyes darting from left to right. Almost every door was wide open, to every room in the entire hotel. They were all darkened, making it difficult to see into them.

"What in the heck?" Cooper muttered under his breath. Finally, he lifted his voice, calling, "Come on out, there is no use sneaking passed everyone! Let's go!" He really wanted his cane back; he could crack way more skulls with it than using his bare paws. Several armed guards stepped out of the darkened rooms, filling the hallway. "That's more like it," Sly said. "I have a lot of frustration to work out, now that my girl is in the hospital. Let's rumble."

Five men rushed him, heading down the hallway in his direction. Sly was ready; it was time to clear this building out then flatten the Bank, across the street. Without warning, Sly burst into a sprint, heading up the hallway towards the armed guards. He strafed to the left once the first gun opened fire and used his inertia and light body weight to walk right up the side of the wall. Sly placed his left foot on the ceiling then arched his back, coming back downwards.

His feet came together, stomping the rifle out of the first guard's paws. The assortment of guards were a bit more racially differentiated than Sire's bunch. The first man was a broad shouldered panda. The graceful raccoon used his feet to turn the weapon around on the floor. He then kicked the rifle upwards so that the gun butt caught the panda in the face. Sly snatched it by the barrel, pivoted hard on his right foot and twirled around, then used the momentum to smash the butt of the rifle into the panda's snout a second time.

The powerful strike rendered the man unconscious, leaving the next four guards. Two alligators, a hulking buzzard and a Czech wolf-dog all raised their weapons, baring their sights on Sly Cooper. He reached to the left wall, where a glass case was set into the bulkhead. A fireman's axe was resting on two hooks and a metal wheel was home to a neatly wound fire hose. His paws shattered the thin glass and wrapped around the head of the fire hose.

One of the guns fired off a shot, striking the cast iron nozzle and sounding like a cracked bell. The bullet's impact crushed the hose nozzle, rendering the metallic equipment inoperable. Sly threw the heavy metal end at the first guard, letting the gray hose slide through his right paw. As soon as it struck the alligator in the face, he clinched his paws around the house and twirled, swinging it like a baseball bat in some respects.

The nozzle hit the wall from the wide arc, then caught the side of the gator's face again. With a powerful yank, he pulled on the fire hose, causing a great deal of slack to be freed from the wheel in the wall. He then coiled it around the first guard's gun and kicked the nozzle up, between the guard's legs, so it hit the next alligator in the face. Sly gracefully somersaulted over the first and second guard, dropping to the floor to sweep the buzzard off his feet.

Within seconds, the incredibly quick raccoon snatched up the bent nozzle and coiled it around the avian's neck, under his right arm then gave another tug. Finally, he looked up at the last guard, a half-bred wolf-dog and the thief gave a quick smile. He lifted the nozzle and charged the guard the way a basketball player would charge a hoop at the other end of the court. Sly leapt into the air then slam-dunked the nozzle down the front of the Czech Soldier's shirt. The wolf-dog looked confused, trying to stab Sly with a bayonet on the front of his rifle.

Sly was quick, however, and evaded the blade that was thrust at him. The hose was dangling between the guard's knees, coming out at the bottom of his shirt. Sly kicked it upwards so that it hit the man in the face simultaneous to his own foot hitting the soldier in the crotch. There was a plastic protective cup positioned there but the solid metal nozzle hit the canine directly in the center of his nose, breaking it. Cooper then snatched the nozzle and began to run back down the hallway with it, causing the slack to slide through the guards' clothes and between their legs and around their necks.

Once Sly made it back to where the hose originated in the wall, he dropped the damaged metal nozzle, placed his paws on the large metallic wheel and gave it a huge spin. The hose roared to life with water and because water couldn't escape the nozzle, the force of the water caused the hose to become excessively tight. It threw all four remaining guards into the wall; one by the neck, one by the front of his shirt, another by the waste and the last one by his arms and legs. The hallway was now clear directly down the center, leaving Sly to strut down the aisle, heading for the stairs at the end.

He made it all the way upstairs then stopped in front of the only closed door in the entire hallway. He backed up two paces then launched his body forward, kicking the door directly adjacent to the knob. The door flew open, cracking the jam built into the frame. Karla and Slick were sitting on the sofa, watching him in the doorway. Sly gave them wry grin and, in turn, they smiled back much the same way.

"I'm here to kick both of your tails," Sly announced, "So I have _no idea_ what you morons are grinning about."

"Do you really want to know?" Karla asked, lifting one paw and placing it along the backrest of the sofa, resting her head on Slick's shoulder.

"By all means," Sly said. "Enlighten me."

"You heard the man," She said. "Enlighten our guest." Before Sly could turn around to see who she was talking to, a sharp pain registered at the backside of his head. The raccoon crumbled to his knees and glanced up at the menacing, hulking form of a badger known as The Reaper. Sly then collapsed forward, landing on his chest in silence. Shallow breathing could be heard from his snout which was facedown on the floor. "Show him the water pantry, lock the gate," Karla said…

* * *

…Four hours later… A weathered hotel across from the Bank in Wenceslas Square at an unknown hour in the late evening…

**The bubbly tone of a voluptuous Karla Chintzy** could be heard, ringing throughout the area. She turned her gaze back to her spindly mate, having just consecrated their lusty affections only half an hour prior; she then patted his cheek, sitting on the furniture across from the bed. "We have to go back to the original plan; I know you weren't here for it," She told him, sliding off of the edge of a dresser, to her feet. A silk toga-like sheet clung from her shoulder, partially supported by her bust, keeping it clad to her body. "It won't be long before Carmelita gets out of the hospital and starts trouble again. Sly won't tell us where to get the pendent until he has a reason, so I propose we set up a mock lynching of Inspector Fox so that he has every reason to tell us where the pendant is located."

"Leave it to me," Slick said. "We've crossed paths already; I'd like the chance to show her that she's in for trouble. If she's not at the hospital, I'll lure her to me but I certainly don't want to make it easy."

"Surly Donovan limped off to tell her that I'm not dead… Take a few of the guards with you," Karla instructed. "They're at our disposal by order of Sire. He's a little angry at me right now over something he thinks I've done but I have Sly imprisoned so he's toning down. _Reaper_ will take care of that treacherous little snot, Donovan Loupe should the shadow child wish to interfere. Carmelita is all yours."

"Excellent," Slick said, reaching to pat her cheek in return. They shared a kiss and then he somersaulted through the nearest window with grace. Karla went to close it behind him to keep the oncoming storm and frigid temperatures outside. She watched him from the window for a moment as he walked with ease across the top of the structure that held up a neon sign reading, 'hotel' in massive lettering. Once he was gone, she went back to Sly's new holding cell, which had jail-style bars over the window that faced the bank across the square.

She knelt down in front of the specially arranged cell and took a bowl of beef stew from the counter which had been sitting to cool. Karla began to ease it under the bars, holding the spoon in her paw. "He's handsome," She said, referring to Slick, "But he's just… not _you_. Know what I mean? You're the genuine article. I don't like to settle for second best," She explained with a shrug. "You can still change your mind and come be with me," She told the raccoon.

"Your invitation doesn't interest me," Sly replied. "It didn't tempt me when you were in future-Carmelita's body, it doesn't tempt me now and when I get out of here I'll drag you by your hair to Carmelita and then… I'll let her have her way with you." He gave her a smile but still took the stew. "Going to give me that spoon?"

"Are you going to beg for it?" She asked, her grin widening just slightly. She really wanted to hear him say 'please', even if he didn't mean it.

"I'm not your slave," Sly replied flatly. His eyes panned over to the stock of bottled spring water that lined the wall of his 'cell'. Most likely, these guys had been stocking it for some reason or another, until this small room came into use as a holding cell.

"Call me your mistress, tell me you want the spoon and say please," Karla returned with a bright grin. "Then strip and kneel on the floor. That would be simply scrumptious."

Sly's rebuttal was concise and delivered with a defiant smirk. "Kiss my fuzzy three-ringed tail," He told her, chucking one of the plastic water bottles at her. It bounced off the metallic bars, skittering across the floor until it rolled back besides him. Karla scrunched up her feline-esqe nose in distaste and disgust. Finally, she flung the spoon into the cell, right onto the floor. Sly happily retrieved it, shined it up on his shirt then proceeded to eat with it, just to spite her. "Mmm, delicious! Did you cook this yourself? It tastes like Dinty Moore brand."

Karla narrowed her eyes and simply said, "It is, you idiot." She rolled her eyes, giving him a casual look of disinterest then said, "Aren't you lucky I didn't poison that spoon before you shoveled it into your muzzle? You know, I think you'll tell me where that pendant is when Slick returns. He'll have Carmelita and we plan to place a rope around her neck and haul her up by way of the hotel room's chandelier. I want you to watch it happen; of course you'll be able to stop her from dying at any time by simply telling us where the _pendent of fertility_ is located and how we can retrieve it. Or maybe we'll do something even worse, it's at his discretion."

Sly rolled his eyes, turning back towards the window he'd faced, earlier, when Karla and Slick were being nauseatingly intimate in the living room. "Just like you made me sit here while you two yiffed (A/N: _Furry term for sex or sexy)_ your tails off, earlier?"

"I'm sure you looked," Karla said with a shrug. "Yes, we'll _force_ you to watch Carmelita's demise if you do not cooperate."

"Good luck catching her, you cradle-robbing freak," Sly replied, amusing himself by reminding her that the only person she could seduce was less than a week old. "Sneaking past Inspector Fox and stealing a document from her office is _one_ thing. Taking her down and out is completely different and next to impossible if you ask me."

"We shall see, won't we?" Karla asked with a smile. "More is at stake here than you realize," She told the raccoon. "You'll understand it all, soon enough. I hope you were hungry; it's your last meal for the next twelve hours. There's an old blanket in the corner, for you; don't drink all the water, Sly." She then stood up and walked away from the bars, headed into the suite's bedroom and shut the door behind herself.

"…Weirdo," Sly muttered under his breath. His eyes returned to the metal-shrouded window and sighed with a frown. He didn't have his cane and he didn't have a way to reach Carmelita or his team. The binoc-u-com was on the coffee table in front of a sofa which was now sullied by Karla and her day-old mate.

* * *

**Donovan Loupe knelt upon the rooftop of a building **that overlooked the hospital. In a window on the fourth floor, he could see Carmelita Fox lying in her bed. An IV was in one paw and a painkiller was fed by way of a tube and a needle into her other arm. While pain medications were usually fed through the IV itself, the doctors had chosen to do it this way to regulate the flow of chemicals in a balance bag above her bed. She didn't look sedated anymore, leaving him to wonder if she was recovering quickly. 

The lupine was incredibly injured. His normally regal garments were tattered and patches of his fur appeared to be singed from fire. His right fist closed tightly in memory of the attack which happened earlier, during the time he had been preoccupied with stifling the breath from Karla's body. 'The Reaper' had been called in by Sire and it was obvious that the assassin knew Donovan's weakness. The badger had used fire to attack the tenebrous tar of shade and then Slick Cooper joined the fray. Donovan Loupe barely escaped with his head attached to his shoulders.

Had he not summoned the last of his inner willpower to seep into the cracks of the mortar and, literally, walk through the nearest wall, he would have been dead. A purple swell was shining beneath his left eye and a puffy spot from a claw cut was overly-obvious beneath his right eye. His thoughts then turned on the version of Carmelita who had successfully traveled backwards through time. She'd sought out Donovan with the little turtle in the wheelchair; that one was now dead, too.

Before their deaths, they had explained everything to Donovan and made him realize that he was being manipulated by the other super naturals. Helping to take down Karla should have bought Cooper's gang a great deal more time but the wolf was unable to tackle her on his own. Currently, he was debating his decision to come here in the first place; he knew he had to talk to Carmelita but this wasn't the same woman that approached him yesterday, claiming to be from the future… No, that woman was dead and _this_ version of Carmelita Fox was all he had; he wondered if the woman had much of a clue just yet.

Something caught Donovan's gaze and he craned his neck. He squinted through the weather to see someone moving in the darkness across the street. A lithe being craftily made their way up the side of the hospital with ease. The enigmatic man put his feet on the window and somehow, the person managed to get it unlocked. They quickly slipped in with the dexterity of a professional, reaching a metal cane over their shoulder to push the windows shut, behind himself. It _wasn't_ Sly Cooper but it looked _just_ like him; the fur patterns were practically in reverse: A black-furred fiend with a _gray_ mask and markings. Could it have been the man who joined The Reaper in protecting Karla Chintzy, perhaps? From this distance, it was hard to tell. Now that the man had made it inside of Carmelita's room, his coloration was easier to tell but from the distance, Donovan could quite make out his facial structure.

…

Inside the hospital, Carmelita craned her head towards the window that opened from the outside. Slick oozed back in through the window he'd used as an exit earlier then closed it with ease, by way of the cane that was slung over his right shoulder. "Hello, beautiful," The cloned raccoon bellowed, half-suppressing a cackle. He was something out of a nightmare; a twisted version of Sly Cooper that fit the physical description of everything that a criminal of Sly's caliber _should_ have been. "Did you miss me?"

"I don't miss," She simply said, letting him take the statement however he wished to take it.

"We have your boyfriend, Inspector Fox," Replied the clone, giving the metallic rod a twirl off of his shoulder, taping it back up with his foot then snatching it from the air above his head. He had twice the dexterity and natural skill of even the most practiced baton twirler.

"I…" Carmelita paused, trying to keep her game face on but she was loaded with pain killers. "…I'm not dating him. You only have a criminal and that culprit belongs to _me_."

"Ah but I hear you've been suspended," Slick retorted in his definition of snappy patter. It annoyed her; his tone and his demeanor, his smile and his eerie Cooper looks. "Therefore, it's a citizen's arrest. He belongs to us and you can't have him back… however, I'll make a deal with you."

"I don't deal with criminals," Carmelita spat back.

Slick folded his arms, dropping the cane to the floor in a way that it was leaning upright against his hip. "I've not even been alive long enough to break the law. You're stereotyping someone who is innocent."

"Kidnapping is a felony offence," Carmelita said, sitting up wearily in her hospital bed. "You're an accomplice to kidnapping, assault and battery – assuming you've helped to render Sly unable to escape – and I've got you red-handed on breaking and entering through the fourth story window of a hospital _after_ visiting hours, a misdemeanor that, by itself, carries a maximum penalty of forty-eight hours in jail."

Slick smirked. "I bet you dressed up as a textbook last Halloween." Carmelita was immediately surprised, wondering how he even knew what that holiday was. He saw her stupefied look and simply said, "Correct me if I'm wrong but you wear costumes on Halloween; and …now you're ruining my comeback so, where do we go from here? Do I break the law by kidnapping _you_?"

"First of all," Carmelita said, reaching down to the IV that was buried in the backside of her paw. A small square section of fur had been shaved from the back of her paw where the catheter had been inserted. Her eyes twitched in response to pulling it out, biting her tongue so as not to wince. The raccoon tilted his head, watching her. She continued, saying, "I'm not impressed by your complete lack of wit. You're tacky lines and cheesy attempts at a pickup are annoying. Second of all, I may be doped up on pain medication but that only makes me more dangerous because I won't hold back my temper very well… lastly, I may be 'by the book' when it comes to being an officer of the law… _but_," She paused, just for effect.

"But?" Slick folded his arms, standing on the heels of his feet. She smiled inwardly, seeing that he was standing in a position that would make it easy to put him off balance. He may have been a master thief with fancy technology used to give him memories and an education but he didn't have a lifetime worth of everyday experience and so now she could plainly see that his stance put him at a disadvantage. It was a rookie's mistake he was making but how could he be anything except novice after only a few days among the living…?

"But due to my suspension," She said, licking her lips trying her best to appear apprehensive at first before adding, "I'm not held accountable by the same loopholes and policies of an officer…!" She then dashed forward with the IV needle, holding it like a dagger. The pain medication needle that was still in her other arm caught against the machine, pulling taut. She winced but the momentum carried her forward and she toppled into Slick. The two rolled to the floor, coming to stop with her pinning him to the ground, the IV Catheter inches from his eye with her knees against his shoulders. "…I meant to do that," She replied casually, keeping the needle directly above his eye in a threatening manner.

"Meant to straddle me?" He said in a flirtatious comportment, stealthily reaching the cane up towards the machine behind her back. With a surreptitious quick flick of his wrist, the hook caught against the button, delivering the debilitating drugs into her blood. The powerful pain medication didn't take but a few seconds to affect her, coursing and mingling within the vitae of her body. She raised the needle as if to use it to stab him but by the time her paw lifted a few inches into the air, her eyes began to flutter shut.

"You…" She couldn't even finish the sentence. She struggled to fight the pain medication that was making her body limp. Slick tapped the cane against the machine to give her a second dose.

"Be careful, officer," Slick said in a whisper. "I hear even narcotics cops can sometimes turn into junkies after a good double hit like that. My, look at your eyes," he continued, his voice beginning to drown out in her mind, "You look as though you're high as a kite, Inspector!" She heard words on the outside of her tiny box of a mind but they were mottled and incoherent. "What do they have you on today? Oxycodone? Morphine? Drug abuse is a serious thing for a law officer to have to face, Inspector!" He reached up and carefully eased the IV needle from her paw, adding, "Let's just take that before we hurt someone, hmm?" It was ruddy from her blood, a sanguine droplet hanging from the very tip.

"…Kill you," She mumbled softly, trying hard to make the words form with her numb, pale lips. Her pupils were practically pinholes and she gave a little sniff. A dreamy, jaded look sparkled in her glazed gaze. The analgesic effects were mind numbing. Slick was growing zealous, on the verge of tasting his first kill. "One more treatment should easily be an overdose." To his faint surprise, Carmelita struggled, lifting her paw. An amused look came over his face, watching her just to see what she could manage to do in this state. The IV needle was no longer in her fingertips and so she wrapped those padded digits around the medical tape that held the other needle in her arm. She gripped the tape between her claws then let gravity carry her paw downward, peeling the tape away from the lightly-shaved patch of missing fur. The adhesive brought the needle with it, ripping the metal spike from her arm, inadvertently tearing a bit of the flesh. The painkiller was so good that she didn't even wince or twitch when it happened. It was her last action before slipping into the depths of unconsciousness. Her body teetered forth, dropping the tape-covered needle on the floor. She slumped to the right, slinking off of Slick's chest, her knees releasing his pinned shoulders. The cane in his left paw moved away from the pain medicine machine and he sat up slowly, watching her. Slick shook his head slowly with a frustrated sigh. "Karla would be angry if I killed you where Sly Cooper couldn't watch and she'd be equally upset if you died from a drug overdose or in a way that didn't bring you any pain," He muttered in disgust. His head lowered, so that his nose was practically brushing against her dry, black button-like nose. He inhaled deeply, trailing his muzzle down over her neck, shivering slightly. Her lower lip quivered and a whimper was heard at the base of her throat. It was almost like a soft pouting sound, a dissonant mutter pushed out with each exhale. The closeness to her body was exhilarating; he nuzzled his face against her neck, licking his lips contentedly. "But now you belong to me, don't you? As far as I'm concerned, that is _so very_ much better, my dear." His paws roamed over her arms, exploring the curvature of her body.

"I suppose it would be harmless to inject you with a stimulant to rush the painkillers from your blood," the raccoon said, shrugging slightly. "You're quite the cunning little vixen, aren't you? Well, not so much _now_ but I'm really impressed that you were able to pull out that second needle." Rolling her onto her side, he reached his paw down her back, running his fingertips through the fur of her bushy tail, shaking his head slowly. "It's a shame I can't do this when you're sober; you don't feel _violated_ do you?" he added, ending the statement with an inquiry he knew she couldn't possibly answer. "What an annoying rhetorical question, right? We'd better leave before the nurse comes to check on you, dear. You're going to need more saline Intravenous fluids to help you flush this stuff out; maybe a little caffeine, hmm? Oh you poor thing, you're a mess right now." Having part of Steven's mental facilities helped him to know how to treat her. The clone came to his feet and went for the door, barricading it with the room's tacky furnishing.

It didn't take long to set up her IV line again. He was in a hurry, regardless.

…

Out on the rooftop, Donovan clinched both his paws into fists, knowing that this was quickly falling apart. He had to act soon or there would be nothing left. Donovan transmuted into the tenebrous form of abyss which slinked down the wall of one building, across the alley then extended back up the wall of the Hospital. To his pleasure, an ambulance passed with flashing lights, causing shadows to be strewn across the brick wall, rapidly projecting Donovan up to the correct window and into the room itself. His form was splayed across the ceiling, thanks in part to the passing ambulance lights, where he oozed straight down, from above.

Slick Cooper turned about from the IV drip rack, face to face with the ghostly being. Caught off guard, Slick found himself thrown up against the wall with an excessive amount of force. Arms of abysmal obsidian crept out from beneath the bed and wrapped around the raccoon's arms and legs, swinging him up against the ceiling with incredible thrust. Slick's upper body slammed into the dull-yellowish ceiling, leaving a dent in the surface from the contact with his head.

He was then released, dropping straight into the mattress, face first. Loupe began to melt back into the shadowy form, enshrouding Carmelita's body. Slick struggled to sit up, looking over at her vanishing body. "NO!" He shouted, reaching for the cane that was now sitting on the floor. He took a swipe at the darkness but it landed no physical blow, cutting a swath through the shade with harmless abandon.

"Damn it, no!" Slick shouted, only to grow that much more frustrated when a series of knocks were heard on the door. The door handle began to rattle and he knew that he'd lost his target. Carmelita's body was now completely missing and the door was being shouldered by hospital security. "This isn't over, Loupe!" He then made a dash for the window, crashing through it with a dive, his paws and cane crossed over one another, above his head. His body sailed through the window, keeping his feet together until passing all the way through.

Broken shards of glass twinkled in the dim lighting of passing street cars as he began to fall in the open air above the alley. Too clever for words, Slick forced the cane into his muzzle then reached his paws outwards, snatching a rainspout across the alley. Almost immediately, he began to ascend the drainage, heading up to the rooftop of the building across from the hospital. Within seconds, he was gone; long before hospital security could race to the window to see if they determine what had just happened.

Donovan Loupe, on the other hand, whisked Carmelita's body away from the hospital in a shade form. It was the first time he'd ever attempted such a feat and yet he was managing it instinctively, with incredible success. For now, he knew only of what this woman was capable; he could trust no others at the moment. Sly Cooper was missing from action and Carmelita needed emergency treatment, paralyzed by euphoric bliss.

It didn't take long to arrive at a dilapidated apartment complex. She was laid out in a dusty bathtub that lay in the middle of a hallway between the bathroom and living room area. Crumbling plaster walls made it possible to see from one room into another, due to the state of deterioration and abuse from local slum and drug addicts. He reached his paw to her face and eased an eyelid open. Her pupils were now completely dilated and drool trailed down from the corner of her mouth, matting down the fur on her jaw and neck.

"Did that fool touch you?" Donovan whispered softly, using his thumb to wipe away the foamy slime at the corner of her maw. "He's a dirty creation; it's become incredibly evident that everything your future self had said was absolutely _true_. Steven and Sire must be stopped. But Karla is the key and you have the power to destroy her; without her offspring, an immortal master thief cannot be birthed which renders Sire's plans obsolete. I couldn't believe it when I heard him speak of it to Steven; I was completely shocked."

Carmelita's jaw parted and the word "_Karla_" spilled over her tongue in a lazy, distorted way, lacking enunciation or definition beyond what was necessary to make the word understandable. It was said with what sounded like distaste.

"Yes," Donovan replied. "She's a reincarnated demon; I understand that your future self has already experienced this, first hand. Sire wishes to use her offspring to unquestioningly steal rare artifacts from historical museums throughout the planet until every piece is acquired; he wishes to use these artifacts to draw out the spirit of Evil itself, then place it into the finished body of Clockwerk. She must be destroyed. Karla must be destroyed and her spirit must be released. They placed it into the cloned body using necromancy and Steven's technical prowess. He's a genius whose mind is literally _centuries_ before its time."

"…help… me," Carmelita replied over a lazy tongue that lolled out the side of her muzzle. Her whiskers drooped and her right ear fluttered in minor convulsion to the incredible amount of painkiller in her bloodstream. Slick had held in the administering button far longer than normal, poisoning her two full times with a massive dump of Oxycodone or some similar pain medication. The crumbling world swirled around before her empty gaze and yet she'd never felt so relaxed in her entire life.

"I don't know how; I'm not a doctor!" Donovan cried, throwing his paws out helplessly. "I'll go back to the hospital and see what I can find; but I don't know what I'm doing… This is Steven's department, or the field of a trained medical doctor! I am neither and telling a doctor what has happened to you will attract unwanted attention to the matter!"

"…_So_ sick." Carmelita's eyes rolled back up into her head once more and she passed out again. Small bubbles accompanied the foamy substance that rested on her lips, like a crab out of water for a long amount of time. Donovan frowned; he knew that Sly Cooper would be in tears if he saw her like this. The raccoon would probably blame himself over their past, a year or so back. He would probably feel that this entire mess was his fault for having had a relationship with her in the first place, thereby drawing her into this entire situation against his better judgment. Donovan simply shook his head, watching the wasted woman in the dusty tub, there in the dimly illuminated hallway.

She was one 'hit' away from respiratory arrest. _If_ she had the willpower to survive the remainder of the night, the potent drugs would leave a stain on her soul that would never come off. The swirling vortex of reality warped everything in her mind, planting the seeds of an emotionally traumatic experience that would plague her with nightmares in the nights to come. Disorientation and confusion swallowed her back into the depths of unconsciousness and the real world crawled to a halt as black tendrils of temporary insanity claimed her mind once more.

On the outside, Donovan looked up, narrowing his eyes as he realized he wasn't alone. The Reaper stood in a dark corner, arms folded with his back against the wall; a cigarette dangled from his lips so that the only visible part of him was his feet and the cherry embers that glowed with every inhale. "I've come for Carmelita. If you resist, you _will_ die. Fire and lightning are _not_ your best friend."

Inside of her mind…

…She felt as though she was standing in a field at night. The cool air brushed her cheeks, blowing through her headfur and rustling through her tail. She normally didn't pay attention to every little detail like this and yet, for some reason, she couldn't ignore these little details, right now. The hole in her torso didn't hurt; _nothing_ hurt, right now. Her aching feet felt fine, her legs felt fine, her injury was without pain as well. Carmelita felt incredible and yet she struggled with the strange sensations of being stoned.

Already, due to the strange nature of the dream, she disliked what was happening. All around her, in the dark evening field, were chalkboards but she couldn't understand what was written on them. Strange words and markings that resembled letters; it was a familiar design to her eyes but she couldn't read any of it. "Distortion," said someone. She glanced around but she appeared to be alone.

"I don't understand," She replied.

"YOU ARE THAT WHICH IS," The voice announced angrily. Her confused mind struggled to make heads or tails of what it was seeing and hearing; the dreams displayed by her brain were tragically twisted and beyond simple comprehension, leaving her to question the reality of the situation and the plausibility of what she saw and heard. She didn't even trust her own dreams, demanding that the madness cease to exist.

"No, I can't comprehend…! STOP!" She shouted, nearly pleading. The world felt the exact opposite of claustrophobic. She felt as though she could reach in every direction and never touch another piece of the world and it was lonely and sad here, in this part of her mind. She struggled to grip this reality but her confused eyes lowered to those empty paws, looking at her palms with a furrowed brow.

"If you love me," Said a voice, "You'll pull through this." It was the voice of Sly but how could that be? Was he here? Was she with him? She couldn't be sure of _anything_ right now. Part of her felt that he couldn't possible be anywhere near her. Was his voice just a relic from the past; a memory from something that most likely happened in the real world a long time ago? "Don't let go, you're tougher than this. You can handle this, Carmelita." Was it all ancient history or was he really whispering these words into her ear? Whether he was with her or not, his voice was the only thing left to accompany her in this land of Nod, far from reality or logic or reasoning.

"I dislike my dreams anymore," She muttered with contempt in her voice. "You always die in them."

"This isn't a dream, you're wallowing in confusion; you can't distinguish what is real and what is not," Came an explanation. She couldn't even be sure if it was Sly's voice or someone else telling her this. She had trouble distinguishing it from Sly's voice, even though this new voice was vastly different. "They're delusions without visions. You're not seeing insanity but you _are_ swimming in it. You're mind is mush right now."

She couldn't comprehend the statement. It was broken English, French and Spanish; the worlds could have been a nursery rhyme as far as she was concerned. Her logic reasoning abilities were stifled by waves of euphoria mixed with intense confusion. The disorientation was incredibly powerful, giving her a headache from the sensations of spinning, even though she was lying still somewhere out in the real world.

"I am Alice," She muttered, referring to Alice in Wonderland.

"No," Said the voice. "_She_ drank and consumed hallucinogenic alcohol, such as Absinthe, and Mushrooms which caused her to slip into a delusional coma. Mixed with several hours of smoking opium, Alice spent the afternoon in wonderland _alone_. She's lucky to have survived it but, then again, she _is_ nothing more than a story character in a fictional book." The voice continued to speak without pause but the tonal quality changed from the stranger's voice to that of Sly Cooper again, saying, "You're not alone, but I need for you to hang on; don't let go."

The words made as little sense as the chalkboards of squiggles that had surrounded her just a few moments prior. "Eat me, Drink me," Carmelita quoted from the story. It was the best she'd gathered from the entire explanation. "Donovan? Sly?" The words sounded far more enunciated in her mind than they did when they came out in the real world, on the other side of this damned mental box.

"What do you want, Carmelita?" It was a far different voice, this time.

"Who else is there?" She quipped. Her words sounded drunken and slurred in the echo that rang out in her ears after speaking each time. "Am I Alice?" She asked the question a second time after not getting an immediate answer… or did she? She couldn't remember if that had already been addressed or not.

"No, Carmelita," the male voice replied from somewhere, out in the world of reality.

"Where am I?" She whimpered in frustration; it was unlike her characteristic mannerism. Something was strange about all of this. "I feel so alone."

"I'm the only one here," He said in a slow, calm voice. "You're not alone; we'll pull through this. Please, try to rest for now." The strange delusional dream world began to dissolve but it wasn't over by any means. At least not yet. She would be plagued by nightmares for the next several hours… she had a _very_ long way to go before sobering up. She was too confused and far too high to feel vulnerable just yet but with her natural mental inhibitions muddled by the powerful painkillers, her replies made absolutely no sense. Within minutes, she sank into the depths of unconsciousness once more, growing quiet again.

* * *

A/N: _So who should be first on Carmelita's list, if she pulls through this? SLICK or KARLA? Or someone else all together? If YOU were Carmelita, who would YOU hunt down first? _


	27. Shock Trauma

A/N: _Thanks to everyone who has been reading this story, so far. As of today, I broke TEN THOUSAND hits and I appreciate it very much. More people have this story alerted than any of my other stories, at a total of 16! THANK you! There are only a few chapters left, as I'm beginning to wrap this story up. It's gone on way longer than I intended! I usually go into sequels by now but I got a little silly in the middle and reset time so of course it's going to take time to get through it… all the characters have another week's worth of stuff to accomplish! It's been a wild ride so far and I'm glad that I have readers who stuck through the story, even though it was so WEIRD for a while there. _

_Also, this story has more reviews than any other story I've written! You guys have shown me reader-reviewer love so much and I'm grateful for it! I'm grateful for those who asked me to write a Sly Cooper story because now I can call most all of you friends and it introduced me to a wonderfully fun character, story and game. For those of you who got into the game because of this story… like you, Destructor… I'm glad you like it as much as I do! Sorry this storyline was so darn convoluted; I know I was really out there for a while, lol. All right, back to chapter twenty-seven! We're going back to the roots of this story by following Carmelita; it's her story, after all. It always was! In chapter 28, she'll be going all-out Commando…!_

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_Chapter -27-_

_Recovery _

**The hazy confusion was indescribable. **It was a true struggle for Carmelita Fox and Sly Cooper did his best to keep her body hydrated, using the bottled water that was stocked up in his temporary 'cell'. This hydration treatment lasted on and off for several hours but when her body finally began to come down from the intense high, she rolled her head to the side and vomited hard. Bile and spring water covered the nearby wall, her clothing and matted the fur of her arms.

She had an incredible fever and her pupils didn't respond to light when he eased her eyelids open. It wasn't farfetched to say that she was nearly on her deathbed. Every so often, Sly had to sit her up so that she could throw up between her knees. He would then lay her back to rest for a few moments, only to have to repeat the cycle a short time later. She'd never felt so vulnerable before and no other person had ever seen her in this way.

It was true, she was lucky to have the raccoon's help; had he not been so completely in love with her and been so completely willing to work diligently to restore her health, she would have surly died from a fatal drug overdose or from choking on bile in her unconscious state. She was such a beautiful woman; it was sad that she had been demoted to such a wasted wreck. Cooper had to stifle tears but it still tore at his heart to see her like this.

Carmelita's harsh retching lasted another two hours, on and off. Sly had to keep a sharp eye on her, waiting for her to begin convulsing before sitting her up so she wouldn't choke in her sleep. After finally beginning to taper off, she began to seem a bit more stable. Cooper ripped the sleeves from his shirt and used them as bathing rags. He soaked them in a fresh bottle of spring water and began to rinse her fur of the horrid smelling bile. He had to remove her blouse and put it in the corner, leaving her clad in an undergarment. He thought to use the dusty thin blanket in the corner for her pride and covered her torso with it.

Sly wasn't sure if Karla left the blanket there for him or if it had some more substantial history. It didn't matter; Sly did what he could do to clean her up, starting with her arms, shoulder and face; he kept the blanket over her chest to keep her bundled up but continued sponging her down with the water to try and break her fever and clean her up. He wasn't sure how long the bottled water had been stocked up in this room but now he was grateful for it. His blue shirt now resembled a sleeveless vest at first glance, from having ripped off the sleeves to use as rags.

Karla and Slick were not in the general area. Nathanial Carrington sat on the coffee table, out in the living room, working on a crossword puzzle in the newspaper. He was in a foul mood already, from having to lower his standards from powerful, esoteric assassin to the likes of being a babysitter. It infuriated him but he didn't dare go against Sire's wishes in the matter.

Sly turned his attention back to Carmelita, drawing her head into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her upper body to try and keep her calm. She was shivering almost violently between having a fever and now having damp fur, not to mention the fact that she was crashing hard from the overdose high. Her body was in a mild state of shock, which is what caused her temperature to spike up so high.

Cooper leaned forward, touching his nose to her own. Hers was dry and warm, an indication of her growing temperature. She was clammy, covered in a cold-sweat, which added to the general discomfort she was experiencing but he had nothing with which to dry her fur other than himself and the blanket he was using to keep her warm.

Ultimately, Sly began to simply use the palms of his paws. He created friction, rubbing his palms up and down over her arms to dry her matted fur. He then re-wrapped the old blanket around her chest, making sure she was bundled up as well as he could manage. Her muzzle parted slightly, displaying a filmy paste on her lips. "…cold," She muttered quietly. It was a heart-wrenching sob on Cooper's ears.

"I'm here for you," he replied, holding her firmly to offer his own body heat. "We're going to be okay, just pull through this, please?" He was honestly scared for her. At this moment, they were no longer cops or robbers. At this moment, it was just a Gray-furred raccoon and a sandy-hued vixen with a milky section running from her neck to her thighs and covering the bottom of her tail. Right here and right now, it was just a sick woman and a man who loved her unconditionally, in sickness and in health… for richer or for poorer.

Whether she loved him back or not, it didn't matter. Her stammering tongue struggled to call his name. "S…Sly?" Asked the suspended Inspector, her teeth chattering softly from the chill that haunted her all the way down to her very core.

"Yes?" His voice was a boon on her soul, for some reason. In her weakened state, it was exactly what she needed and she couldn't be sure as to the reason why.

"Th-this stays between us." Her reply was simple but after a short pause, she added, "I f-feel vulnerable and y-you know how self assertive I am and… and… I'm s-so co-cold; freezing, r-really. My stomach hurts." She was never one to complain and yet the words just tumbled out of her mouth. She was too ill to care or be surprised by her actions; she was recovering from the most intense downward spiral she'd ever experienced in her life.

Sly, in a soft voice, told her, "You threw up to the point where you were dry heaving, earlier. I tried giving you water but you couldn't keep anything down. I think you're dehydrated; you've got a bit of a fever."

Carmelita pried her heavy eyelids open, gazing up at him with glazed hues of the richest mocha. She was his brown-eyed girl as far as he was concerned. Her lower lip trembled but she forced the words out, anyhow. "Remember when you stayed with me in the Australian Outback, all n-n-night long? You j-just stayed near, when I was unconscious instead of abandoning me. You always see me when I'm at my most defenseless and exposed, Ringtail. Remember the gas chamber in Russia? There are _too many_ times to count."

"You did the same for me," Sly reminded her. "Doctor M. had me twice and both times I wondered if I would die." He didn't mention that she was the only person on his mind both of those times; that could be brought up, later. "You were my guardian angel; I was the damsel in distress, both of those times."

"I can't be in distress _all_ the time, Sly. To make this thing work, it has to be your turn once in a while, you know? Her lips quivered from the shivering but it was reduced greatly now that his arms were around her and yet she gave no real thought about the situation, in consideration that her mind was still cloudy. "We're not an item anymore," She reminded him. "I mean it… honestly."

"Do you trust me?" He asked.

A slight frown marred her matted furry features. "…Maybe." She was in far too awkward of a situation to say 'no' but at the same time, he only betrayed her trust _twice_. The first time, he handcuffed her during a kiss at the top of Krakov Volcano, on a catwalk railing after they defeated Clockwerk. The second time, he turned himself in only to escape and make her look like an idiot to her superiors. Her eyes fluttered shut again.

Of course, he knew she was a capable woman and both times, she wasn't in any real trouble. He also knew that those stunts were employed to keep her preoccupied just long enough for him to escape without being trailed. Cooper grinned inwardly, looking to keep her spirits up. "I had a great idea on how to combat the evil offspring of Slick and Karla," he told her.

"Oh?" Carmelita opened a single eye, looking up at him lazily.

Sly happily announced, "We have a child of our own to take the kid out."

"You're so… _Stupid_." She gave a wan smile.

"Hey!" Sly mockingly snapped. "What did I tell you about calling me by my middle name?" He joked, trying to bring a smile back to her face. The light flirting worked and the change in attitude helped her struggle through this intensely sick moment. She gave him a reassuring smile even though her fur stood on end with goosebumps and even though she was still damp and cold. Finally, Sly took his own shirt off and placed it over her torso and the blanket. "I want you to put this on; you need it more than I do. Don't say 'no', Carmelita."

"All… all right, I…" She trailed off, trying not to be shy about the situation. It wasn't like her but right now she was in a vulnerable position and shouting at him wouldn't solve anything. After all, he'd just saved her life and given her the very shirt off of his back, minus the sleeves. He helped her to sit up then knelt behind her, pulling the shirt down over her head for her. Carmelita lifted her arms, putting her paws through the sleeveless holes and he pulled it down, snug, over her torso from behind her. This afforded her with the privacy she preferred, even though they had lived together for a short time in the past, a little over a year ago. He didn't look down, over her shoulder, but instead, he kept his eyes averted while helping her with the shirt.

"How're you feeling?" Sly's warm breath was practically whispered directly into her ear; his chest was flush against her back and the proximity gave her the shivers.

"Rotten," She replied. "I'm humiliated beyond belief. I feel… desecrated. Those two are going to _pay_."

Sly nodded to her words then simply replied with, "I need for you to hold it together."

"I'll be fine," She returned, looking down at the sleeveless blue shirt that normally belonged to the scoundrel who secretly stole her heart. She wanted to be angry about it for some reason but it just didn't happen. His shirt was a little tight in the front, around her bust, but the shoulders felt comfortable and the collar was fairly formfitting without being an annoyance. After all, it _did_ belong to a thief who needed clothing that doesn't catch on miscellaneous objects.

The lay of the shirt was designed to be clingy in the front so that he didn't have any slack and so it gave her a fairly busty appearance. Sly tried his best to keep his gaze on _her_ eyes and did so by crawling around to face her. How could she trust him if he couldn't control his eyes? He kept those plain brown orbs locked to her own gaze then offered a smile.

The raccoon stood up, stretched and picked the dusty blanket up from the floor. "Despite whoever is first on your list, we still have to escape _and_ tackle The Reaper. He's supposed to be the 'perfect' assassin. I don't know what his powers entail but I really don't care to find out."

"Leave him to me," She said, sitting up slowly. She was dizzy and due to the physical trauma and coupled with the massive overdose in painkillers, Carmelita was _not_ at the top of her game right now. Sly had no problem picking the gate lock for her but the problem was a burley badger in the living room. Without his cane, he was little or no match for someone known as a 'perfect assassin', at least not as far as he was concerned.

"Are you sure?" He asked, whispering his inquiry.

Carmelita glared at him, her eyes still dilated beyond what should have been normal. "I've got this, mind your own business, Ringtail." Sly nodded, putting his paws up defensively. She smirked and added, "The one time I'm without my gun and you _finally_ put your paws up." She then hobbled to the bars and shouted, "Hey, DOOFUS! Get over here; I've got to read you your rights."

Reaper casually placed the newspaper and his pencil on the coffee table then stood up. He approached the cell and folded his arms, gazing over the bare-chested raccoon and Carmelita, who was covered in spring water, sopping wet save for the shirt that came from Cooper. The sleeves were missing and the blanket lay on the floor. His eyes flitted over them both then returned to her with a wordless smirk.

"Look, I'm a little sick," She said, leaning in to the bars. "And you've got me locked up with a criminal. C'mere, I need to tell you something I don't want him to hear," she said. The badger narrowed his eyes then leaned in closer to the bars, perking his ears just a bit.

Carmelita reached between the bars, wrapped both of her paws around his collar and pulled him towards her then launched her body forward, head butting the assassin with all of her might. The connection was so incredibly hard that it drew blood from a fresh cut just above her left eyebrow. Reaper teetered back, crashing backwards upon the floor. His nose was immediately broken and two of his front teeth rolled across the tile floor and into the adjacent kitchenette. Carmelita turned back to Sly, a satisfied look painted on her muzzle. "If this story ever turns into a rumor, I don't want to hear anything about an overdose on painkillers before the head butt happens. Understand?"

"Good stuff huh?" Sly asked.

"I hardly felt a thing," She replied, lifting a paw to the gate. "Pick the lock." She then folded her arms and waited. She was still shivering but the adrenaline was helping her blood to flush out the chemicals, little by little.

Cooper frowned. "This is going to sound weird, but I need a piece of metal to insert into the lock."

"We don't _have_ a piece of metal," She grumbled. "I thought you said you could open it."

"I can… and we _do_ have a piece of metal," Sly told her. "But I have to ask your permission before using it."

"You've got it, open the lock!" Carmelita muttered. It was obvious that she was still sick to her stomach.

Sly braced himself for imminent shouting and quietly told her, "The wire is the support in your bra, Carmelita."

She balled her fists up and turned away from him, facing the window for a moment. After a few seconds to deliberate on the subject, she reached her paws up underneath the shirt he'd given her, and used a claw to tear the fabric of her undergarment. It took a moment to pull out a piece of metal but was then handed over to him. "Again, I'll remind you that this stays between us. Understand?"

"You still don't trust me," He reminded her, taking the metal wire into his paws. He immediately bent it to meet the demand of his needs. The metal wire was placed into the lock and after a few seconds, the tumbler rolled to the side and the gate squeaked ajar. "Viola!"

"You're right," She said, snatching the wire back from the lock and looking over the bent, useless piece of metal wiring. "I hope you realize just how uncomfortable this is going to be; be glad I wasn't wearing a sports bra, you _ass_."

Cooper smiled a bit, easing the metallic gate open with one paw and motioning with his other for her to step through. "I don't see how racial slanders towards donkeys are going to solve anything," Sly joked in reply.

"Stay put," She said, stepping through the cell. She then turned about, slamming the gate shut and locking him in. "I doubt you have any other undergarment in there to use so I'm going to assume you're stuck in there. I'll come back for you when I say it's clear. I don't need you getting in the way; I can't rescue you if something happens and I'm not stopping until Karla and Slick are both dead. Don't worry about Reaper, here; I'm taking him with me so he can't get in my way, either."

Sly's eyes widened. She was doing to him what he'd done to her in the past, above the Volcano and in the Helicopter. "Are you kidding me? Let me out so I can get back to stopping Sire and Steven from building Clockwerk!"

"We're not a team, Sly," Carmelita snapped at him. "I'm grateful that you saved my life yet again," She said, adding, "But right now, I have to do what I have to do to stop this thing. It's going to get a little messy and I don't need you getting in my way. You being in love with me is _not_ going to sway my decision to keep you locked up. You stole from Interpol, you lied to me and you know the rules."

"Carmelita…!" Sly was incredulous. Of course he knew he could get back out of the cell but it would be much harder without any tools. She shook her head and held her paw out then turned for the nearest bathroom. It was off to the side and the door was wide open. The vixen bolted into the small room; she dropped to her knees, placed her paws firmly around the bowl and opened her muzzle, clinching her eyes shut… Fighting her enemies alone was going to be harder than she originally thought. …Especially if she couldn't stop throwing up. Now that the adrenaline rush had ended, her body was quick to remind her that she was still sick.

Cooper sat in the cell, reaching into his pocket to pull out some things he'd recently acquired. One of the things was a pendant that belonged to Sire. The other object was something he didn't necessarily understand… It was a string of beautiful pearls that he'd gotten from the future Carmelita's pocket. He wasn't sure why she had them but they reminded him that the love of his life was _not_ immortal and that he would need to keep her out of trouble to keep her alive.

The Pearls (A/N: _chapter 18!_) were oddly heavier than normal pearls and he'd not taken them out of his pocket since he'd acquired them yesterday. He'd not told anyone about them and had no idea what the future Carmelita would be doing with heavy pearls like this. He glanced back up, hearing the retching in the bathroom finally conclude. "Are you all right?"

"I'm sick," She grumbled in reply. After a moment, Carmelita returned to Reaper's fallen body and she took his legs in her paws. "I've got to take him out of here; he'll kill you if he wakes up. I'm going to go and find Slick and Karla. You won't be seeing them ever again, _I promise_."

Sly frowned; for once, she had him in a jail cell and was actually going to inconvenience him. "I see, which means that this should technically be the safest place for me, in your mind."

Carmelita, despite being sick, nodded emphatically. "You've got it. Behind bars, right where you belong," She said with a smirk.

"Carmelita," He said, reaching through the bars for her paws. She glanced down where his palms touched her wrists but he kept his eyes forward, on her. Part of her knew he'd eventually escape with no guards around to monitor him. A metallic click sound was heard, causing his ears to flicker. His eyes panned downwards, raking over her body until he saw where his paws met hers, through the bars. His eyes widened, seeing that she'd handcuffed his paws together, so that he couldn't move away from the bars anymore.

"Escape _that_ Houdini."

"Carmelita, listen. Just this once," Cooper replied to her mild gloating, "You've got to let me go. I can't explain now, but it has to happen," he said in a pleading voice. He had friends that were at risk, out in the field. Who was going to keep them alive?

"Are you serious? I have you," she exclaimed. "Last time I brought you in, you got away. This time, I'm not removing those cuffs until your _court_ _date_," She explained with an air of satisfaction.

"Carmelita Montoya," Sly said, the way her father would say when she strayed from her truest duties. Her bottom lip quivered. How could he be so commanding? How could she love him? How could she love him! Sly continued, "As much as I would hate to stand you up on a '_date_,'" retorted the raccoon.

"Forget it," interrupted the vixen; officer of the law, not to be forgotten even in a moment that was nearly dream-like. "If I let you go, I'll never get this chance again," Miss Fox groused, lifting her narrowed gaze up to him. Those brilliant oculars were squinted and yet behind lush lashes, her eyes were _still_ dilated, taking in every action he could think to make, to keep him from living up to his first name.

Sly took a deep breath. "I thought you said we had to tackle Clockwerk _together_."

Carmelita smirked, dropping her left paw to her gut to cradle the pain in her stomach. "And now I'll know right where to find you when it's time to _tackle Clockwerk_."

"I'm sorry I never said 'I love you' when we dated," he said. His words threw her off balance and suddenly she realized that this all felt familiar. Her eyes widened in realization that part of this conversation was from her first nightmare about him. She handcuffed him, gloated, then he made the flirty little comment about standing her up for a date, in regards to her statement about releasing him the day of his 'court date.' The sudden shock that covered her face left Sly to think it was because he finally said he loved her.

"Cooper, I…" She trailed off, backing away a few steps. "I… You…" She just leered at him for a moment. If she left him here, he might die. She wasn't sure how, but if her dream came true, she wouldn't be able to forgive herself. She was nearly in shock that their conversation was a recital of part of her initial nightmare. She nearly flinched from the sensation of being punched in the solar plexus. Finally she handed him the metal wire and said, "Wait until I'm gone. If you're surrounded, don't fight; run. I just don't want Slick or Karla to kill you. I was going to leave you in here, so you're safe but… I suddenly had this eerie feeling that leaving you trapped might be worse. Stay put until I'm gone. Don't follow me." Without a word, she picked up Sly's Binocucom from the living room table and left her own in its place.

She turned and headed for the door. Sly watched her drag Reaper out by his shoes then, when she made it to the door, shouted, "Hey, Gorgeous! I love you!" He grinned inwardly then whispered, "She just couldn't resist my charm." He was pleased with himself, holding the wire in his paws, using it to work on the handcuff lock, first. "Aren't you the luckiest little piece of metal on the planet?" He joked in reference to how close the wire piece was to her breast, before she had removed it from the undergarment.

* * *

**A flat run**. Carmelita ran through the snow to try and regain her adrenaline rush because it kept her from feeling sick. She wasn't in her right mind, rushing up the square towards the yellow marker that showed up in Sly's Binocucom. It showed the location of Bentley's safe-house, where she could probably pick up some equipment and a coat. She left The Reaper inside of a recycling dumpster with handcuffs, her last set, to keep the lid from being opened. Should he use his power of lightning, he would set the entire dumpster on fire from being stuffed in a mountain of paper. Then he would have a fiery death and she wouldn't care. Not that she knew what his powers were, like her future-half did, but she figured he'd stay in the recycling dumpster in the nearby alley for quite some time if she was lucky. 

The intense cold caused the damp fur on her arms and shoulders to slick over in a white powdery layer of frosting. She pressed on with the willpower of a Marine. The snow was blinding, like iced pitchforks that screamed from a black sky. At just a few hours before sunrise, the sky was absolutely black and the foggy cover which hung just above the city's skyline was a rolling dark gray, reflected and dimly illuminated by street lights that lined the roadways.

She raced towards that holographic yellow beacon, squinting her eyes as plump flakes of snowfall collected in her eyelashes and on her fur. Midnight tendrils of the deepest cobalt flowed out behind her and the thick, furry brush of her tail flowed behind her. Both needed desperately to be brushed down; she was a sore sight for any eyes. Carmelita knew the bank was her target; what else could bring Karla and Slick out of their hiding places faster than a direct assault? For now, she needed gear and the safe house was her best bet.

Once she arrived at the safe house, she let herself inside the darkened building and shut the door behind herself. Her pupils were still dilated which helped her see in the dark almost immediately. The small building was actually an empty corner store that was up for rent. The rent sign was lying on the floor, next to the window it belonged in.

Carmelita sniffed the air then nodded decisively. Bentley, Penelope _and _Murray were all present. She could smell dry blood and it wasn't her own. She reached her paw out, sliding it along the wall near the door, trying to fight a light switch. The lights flipped on at the end of the room and Penelope sat in a chair with tired, squinted eyes boring directly into the suspended Inspector.

"What are you doing here?" Penelope asked quietly, trying not to wake Bentley or the injured Murray. They were on cots at the far side of the room. Murray had a black eye and various cuts and bruises could be seen on his arms and face. She didn't yet know that he had two broken ribs from the fight with Karla but he looked pretty wasted; she felt the way he looked.

Carmelita decided to be blunt. "We have to stop Slick Cooper and Karla Chintzy. If we don't, they'll kill Sly and then the rest of us."

"I thought Bentley helped you break into the bank and rescue Sly," Penelope said. "And that's cool of you, but it doesn't make us trust you; you're a cop and you're notorious for being by the book."

"Yes, yes," Carmelita muttered, "I'm a freakin' textbook for Halloween or whatever. I'm going to mount a full-on assault on the Bank, alone. I'm going to go in there, destroy everything I see and burn the building to the ground. I need to commandeer your group as temporary deputies because I'm going to need help leveling this place. You don't understand, mouse. Sly will die if we don't change history. I've dreamt of his murder over and over and I need to begin a preemptive strike to ensure that he lives. I need gear, a coat, and a dweeb's brain."

"A dweeb's brain, huh?" Penelope said, her expression becoming a thin line of pursed lips, glaring at the cop. "Bentley and I, together, could give NASA a run for their money, how's that?"

Fox nodded slightly. "Perfectly fine, I'll need an advantage. Do you even know what we're up against?"

Penelope frowned, remembering her experience with Karla last night. "From what I've seen already, people who have strange powers; you're going to get your tail handed to you, going in there alone."

"No," Carmelita said, shaking her head slowly. "Everyone will get their tail handed to them if we all went in. I'm doing this to keep everyone else alive. It's complicated but it's my duty. I'll need to have an advantage that puts me on par with the rest of them."

"From what I can tell," Penelope mused, putting her paw to her chin, "Most of their powers are used on what they can see. That Karla Chintzy lady was powerless when the shadow-guy wrapped her up. Once her eyes were covered, she was helpless. Maybe if we can find a way to make everyone blind _except_ for you… then you would be at an advantage."

"That… _could_ work," Carmelita noted aloud. "But how do we manage that?"

"To completely black out the entire bank," Penelope said, a grin starting to form on her mouse-ish face. "We don't even want these suckers to have _flashlights_."

"So…?" The vixen scrunched her nose, trying to see what Penelope was beginning to grin about.

"Hold on," Penelope said, putting a paw up. "I want to see, aw heck, he's asleep; I was going to wake Bentley up and see if he'd come to the same conclusion as me but… I'm sure he would. _Any_way, my idea was," She paused for a dramatic effect. Carmelita crossed her eyes in frustration. The adrenaline was starting to wear off from running in the cold and she was starting to thaw out in the building, which meant her nausea was beginning to return. Penelope then cleared her throat and said, "An _electromagnetic pulse_ to render their equipment and the entire building… useless. Then, we send you in with Night Vision Goggles. But not just _any_ NVG's… I have a pair that you can change the settings to see thermal, x-ray, infrared, phosphorescent night vision, and …" She just stopped abruptly and shrugged.

"And what?" Carmelita asked, glancing around the dimly illuminated room for a place to sit down. Finally, she settled on the floor.

"Well, they're under development but," Penelope shrugged then simply said, "Energy. I thought it would be really cool to see ghosts or other things like that but, yeah, energy patterns. It would probably be useless in that building after we hit it with an EMP, though. I mean, you'd see people as orange blobs but, that's about it. They're the only pair I have but they're pretty tough."

"They're going to get dogged on this mission," Carmelita replied flatly. "'Pretty tough' is okay but I really do _not_ feel comfortable if I'm the one field testing them."

"You got a better idea?" Penelope rebutted, putting her paws on her hips, sitting in the chair between the two cots.

Carmelita lowered her eyes to the floor with a sigh; her pupils never shrank, even thought the lights had been on for a few minutes, now. "No." Her reply was concise and it was all she could offer. She glanced back up at the mouse then said, "I've never really worked with thieves before. So help me, if you people backstab me, you'll _wish_ this whole situation ends in jail. Not a threat, just a fact."

"Another bad guy, trying to take over the world?" Penelope scoffed.

Carmelita face-faulted. "Well, when you put it that way, it does sound kinda stupid but The two super naturals you saw fighting; the girl with the teleportation and mental movement trick… and the guy with the shadows that you'd mentioned seeing… they're only the tip of the iceberg. Clockwerk is being reconstructed to become the future host body for something the leader is trying to resurrect. The leader-guy is attempting to confuse the rest of the world by calling himself SG1 of Interpol. My doppelganger from the future filled him in on what's going on, so he did some spying. Turns out it's worse than we could have realized. Donovan found out that this guy, calling himself The Sire, is trying to resurrect the damn Devil and stick it into Clockwerk's metal body. I… It's over my head. The guy is insane and was lucky enough to be gifted with the abilities to accomplish this entire thing. Sly told me that the fight between him and that guy is extremely personal… so I plan to wipe out everyone _except_ for this 'Sire' guy.

"The freak took my job away but," Carmelita lowered her eyes again. "Somehow, I think if I kill the Secretariat General of Interpol, I won't get my job back. So, I'll let Sly do it… but everyone else belongs to _me_." She looked back up with a frown but Penelope suddenly became interested in something else all together. The mouse slid off of her chair and approached where Carmelita was sitting on the floor. She then reached down with her left paw, cupping beneath Inspector Fox's jaw. The ex-cop jerked her head away at first but Penelope gave her a sharp look, reaching to cup her jaw a second time.

This time, Carmelita reluctantly allowed it to happen. Penelope reached her right paw down and pushed it against the bottom of Carmelita's eyebrow, pushing up to get a good look at the fox's eyes in the light. "Are you… stoned?" The mouse asked, furrowing her own brows.

"It's a long story, a very humiliating one," Carmelita said with a sigh. "Just between us girls, Slick attacked me in the hospital and used my painkillers against me. I've spent all night in a coma, throwing up until I felt beyond dead. There's nothing left; I'm raw inside."

"I'm… I'm sorry, that sounds rough," Penelope said, backing up with a frown. She walked back to her seat then motioned to Murray. "He's struggling with two broken ribs. I don't know what kind of cover he'll be for you."

Carmelita placed her paws on her hips, trying to change the subject back to the initial topic. "Aren't you the girl that steals computer hardware around Europe using remote control toys?"

"Uh," The mouse gave a loose, innocent looking smile. "I've heard of her."

"Does every thief have to be a liar too?" Carmelita snapped. She stood up, glanced around and asked, "Where's your bathroom?" Penelope lifted a paw and pointed to the small room off to the side. Carmelita went across the small room, stepped into the bathroom and shut the door besides her. Almost immediately, Penelope shuttered over noises of dry heaving. The mouse looked queasy for a second but put up a bit of mental fortitude, blocking out any mental images.

Carmelita returned a few moments later, looking as weary as ever. "We can't strike tonight; the sun will be up soon. There are a lot of windows on that building," She added, shaking her head.

Bentley sat up in bed, rubbing at his eyes. He reached for his glasses, mumbling that he knew that 'familiar' voice. Glancing up at Carmelita, he was instantly startled but after seeing how rough she looked, he simply said, "Wh-what happened to _you_? Where's Sly?"

"Sly is around," Carmelita replied. "I've come to do him a favor: protect his friends. It was his greatest concern. I need your help in bringing their hideout to the ground. Your lil' girlfriend, here, suggested that we strike the building with an Electromagnetic Pulse then I can go in at dusk with night vision and wipe them out."

"By yourself?" Bentley quipped. "That's suicide. Why not take Sly with you – and don't give me that crap about not being able to work with thieves."

The vulpine lowered her gaze. "I'm trying to do this before he can do it himself," She grumbled. "He can have the leader, I get the rest. It's only fair. We'll start in the evening so everyone needs to get some sleep. Especially _me_. I want to be well rested tomorrow, when I go and stomp everyone's butt. What was your name again?" She asked, directing the question to the mouse.

"Penelope."

"Right," Carmelita said with a nod. "Penelope can use her remote control toys to help me level that place. We'll use a disposable one to set off the EMP, then another can go in with me to provide support and perform menial tasks to ensure success. You'll guide me," She said, turning her gaze back to Bentley. "And Murray will be in position, when I'm done, to drive into the building, through the lobby, and pick me up. We'll take out the main support pillars then hurry out, while the building begins to collapse. How's that?"

"Good," Bentley said, sitting up more and reaching for his bowtie on the nightstand besides the cot. "But Penelope's RC Chopper was destroyed, the extra parts were in the van, which is also destroyed and we need to locate a place to steal the equipment necessary for making this EMP Burst."

"It's not stealing," Carmelita muttered. "It's commandeering and acquisitioning the gear for official police business. You're all deputies, temporarily."

"You're suspended," Bentley simply blurted out.

"So," Penelope said, putting her paws back on her hips. "What was that about all thieves being liars? Suspended cops can't have deputies, Miss Fox."

"I was suspended by the bad guy!" Carmelita snapped. "It doesn't mean _anything_ to me. As far as I'm concerned, I'm still a cop and not wearing my badge is just a formality!"

"Fine, fine," Penelope replied, shaking her head with a sigh. "We'll do what we do, you do what you do and we'll sink this badboy at sundown. You look like hell; go take a shower and get some sleep. We'll get up and acquire a van, some gear, an extra coat for you and everything else you'll need. But I have one condition."

"Yeah?" Carmelita folded her arms.

"We work together as a team," She said. "That means _Sly_, too. Also, we're going to need explosives if we want to flatten that bank. We've got a guy who can help with that, but we're going to have to get moving right away if we want to get him here by sundown. He'll be flying in from China. Also, you can't go arresting us when this is all over with."

Carmelita sighed and nodded slowly. She couldn't believe she was getting into this huge mess over Sly freakin' Cooper. But if she didn't, she would never get her job back. She would never get reinstated and _that_ was her problem. "Fine," said the ex-Inspector. "Go re-assemble your little 'gang' and let's finish this. But they'd do well to learn real fast that Clockwerk is twice as dangerous as Doctor M. I hope they know what they're getting themselves into. We start at dusk."

* * *

A/N: _This seems like a good place to post; I'm now working on Chapter 28: "Commando". It's going to be action packed from start to finish. It's going to involve the whole dang gang and it's going to take everybody working together to stop Reaper, Karla, Slick, the clone of Steven and The Sire. An all-out attack will be necessary to bring down the bad guys. Okay, the reviews are in for chapter 26 and it looks like Carmelita's first target will be Karla Chintzy! I hope everyone psyches up for this next chapter because this Femme Fatale is going to rock the house. _

_I was going to go right into that in THIS chapter but it would have been waayy too long. Thanks for reading… I hope everyone is ready for some serious action next chapter. And for all you ladies out there, don't worry… I have a little bit of mushy stuff planned, too! I can't guarantee that this story will end with a wedding but I promise you'll see another moment between Sly and Carmelita before the end of the story. I'll probably end it at Chapter 30; this story has gone on for way too long, ANYhow! That's what sequels are for, dang it! I just didn't have anything planned for this story from the beginning and that's why I got carried away with it! Now I sorta have a little bit of a plan on how to finish this thing so expect it to be wrapped up in just three more chapters. 28 will be your high action one, 29 will be a continuation from some sort of cliffhanger that I'll come up with in 28, and 30 will tie up all the lose ends and finish the story. _

_I don't think I've ever written so many chapters for a story before, lol. I'm already at about **two hundred** **thousand** words for this story. That's a dang novel, yo! Anyway, thanks for reading! Chapter 28 will be up by Monday the 30th, at latest_

_:D_

_-kit _


	28. Commando Vixen

A/N: The reason this chapter took so long is because my editor-of-the-week got abducted. I had the Five grand in unmarked bills but they also demanded cheese and I was fresh out…. So I had to proof the story myself and it was really busy at work so… I didn't do a very good job! Sorry; I'll try harder next time XD

_I FINISHED THREE CHAPTERS for the sequel of this story! Sorry, I got really into it and then realized, OSNAP-SON, I gotta finish THIS one! AHH! _

This chapter was completed November 5th…

Also, _I entered a submission into a writing contest. Top prize is a hundred bucks. It's posted here:_ httpCOLONfwdSLASHfwdSLASHwwwDOTfanstoryDOTcomFWDSLASHdisplaystoryDOTjspQUESTIONMARKidEQUALSSIGN125589

fanfiction won't let me post a dang website address. Laaaame. I guess it keeps bots from putting up spam but sheesh, yanno? _Anyhow, I probably won't win or anything because I got silly with the wording and the lexicon but the contest rules state that it has to be a short story that begins with the sentence: "It looked like a simple butcher knife" … BUWAH HA HA! _

_I think this is the chapter I've been waiting to write since after finishing chapter 18. The good ole' beat'em up and break stuff chapter. I had a bit of fun with the "fire hose" scene, a few chapters back but… I really like writing about crackin' skulls! Well, that and intensely mushy romance. I could write about that all day at night and never get tired but it just hasn't had a place in this story just yet. I really love writing every-day happiness and white-picket-fence romance… But anyway, back to the crackin' skulls part! That's what Carmelita is about to do! So let's get to it and see some action! For those of you who have recently re-read through the entire story … you're going to understand why things happen the way they do, concerning Steve and Clocky. _

_**Let** **me refresh your memory really fast**… _Chapter 15, Clockwerk kills Steve. DO you remember why? It was in self defense, of course! Remember, Steve is a clone of the real skunk, (The real Steven is actually rebuilding Clockwerk). At the same time, the biologically-created Steven (BCSteve? Lol) let it happen because he was intrigued by the fact that a clone could have such dreams and desires and passion… just like watching a child pursue a dream. And so he let the clone of himself build Clockwerk. Dumb idea for such a genius, Clockwerk became a badass. At the last minute, the cloned skunk had the idea to use Clockwerk to kill The Sire for his own reasons, then use the "hate chip" as a reward… but he planned to use the one that Bentley made back in chapter 3, which would immediately kill Clockwerk. It all went wrong and Clockwerk was inadvertently resurrected by Bentley and Sly … oops. Let's see how that plays out a second time, huh? _Things could get sticky for the good guys AND the bad guys… Hmm, knowing me – they probably will. XD_

* * *

Chapter -28-

COMMANDO

**The western-facing Safe House was quiet. The room remained** dark throughout the morning and Sly Cooper had to squint to see. He shut the back door, ran his paws up through his stormy-hued tousled bangs and then paused. He opened his stance, leaned over then shook hard to rid himself of the snow on his bare chest, shoulders and back. At a glance, he could see that the crew was not here, but the subtle sound of breathing could be heard over on the other side of the room.

Sly cautiously and quietly approached the two cots and a chair near the wall then smiled, relief welling up in his chest. Carmelita lay on one of the cots, asleep. She seemed to be resting peacefully and the sight of her served to instantly restore his mood. If he could _only_ get her to trust him again, they could attempt another relationship. He loved her in a way that had grown tenfold since the relationship ended, last year. He even considered proposing at some point in the near future.

He reached for a small gas lamp that sat on a block of wood nearby. He spied a box of matches resting adjacent to the lantern and reached for them. Removing a long-stick match, Sly struck it against the side of the box then eased the lit matchstick down into the glass tube until the flame touched the wick. A very soft glow filled the immediate area; Sly turned back to the slumbering vixen and knelt down besides her cot, just taking a moment to breathe in her scent.

What sort of power did she hold over him? He couldn't be sure. Cooper reached his paw directly behind her left ear and began to massage his short, stubby claws into her fur. In a state of unconsciousness, Carmelita churred pleasantly. Her ear flickered from the proximity of his paw but the muffled hum of her voice was proof-positive that she enjoyed the touch. Indigo tendrils spilled over the side of her face, partially obscuring the tug of a smile at the corner of her maw.

After a few moments, she began to shift her position on the cot, rolling onto her back to stretch out with a light squeak of noise at the back of her throat. Sly pulled his paw up then reached to brush back her long dark blue locks, looking down at her dimly illuminated face. Unable to resist the temptation, he leaned forward until his soft, velveteen tiers brushed against her lips. Cream-like pallid fur covered her neck and cheeks; it was soft to the touch which Sly noticed once his paws came to cup either side of her face. Only a _master_ thief could steal a kiss _this_ well.

His heart was pounding in his chest and yet she was so calm, relaxed and beautiful in her slumber. Was he prince charming, come to kiss the sleeping beauty? The idea had a great measure of appeal in his mind, partially wishing she would wake up and wrap her arms around his neck. At the same time, he didn't want to disturb her sleep because he knew that she needed it.

Just having their lips meshed together, locked in a tender kiss was enough to excite his heart. Tender little nips were offered against the vixen's pursed, kissable lips. He wasn't sure what overcame him but he enjoyed the moment of greed in taking as long as he could with this opportunity. His entire body was afire with love, lust and desire. His will was higher than normal from the pendant but willing his heart to be calm was beyond the ability of any magic artifact.

After several moments of indulging in such sensual and passionate bliss, Sly placed one last, deep kiss upon her soft rose petals of flesh then turned his head to the lantern and extinguished the flame with a breath. He snatched the other cot and brought it closer to hers, then crawled upon it and closed his eyes. All he could think about was his fantasy, where she would have woken up, wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss willingly.

Once the light was out and he was completely still on his cot, Carmelita opened a single eye, peering over at him in the dark. A crafty little smile crept over face, listening for his breathing to grow deeper. She licked her lips, complimenting herself, secretly thinking, '_he totally wants me'_. Once she was positive that he was asleep, her eyes fluttered shut once more and she allowed herself to sink back into slumber, enshrouded by the sands of Morpheus.

The hours flew by while the rest of the team was out collecting gear that they would need. Sly and Carmelita, nearly side by side, slept through the day, recuperating from the long, crazy night. Both had romantic dreams possibly spurred on by the early-morning kiss.

* * *

**Cooper opened his eyes as the western sun** began to pour in through the window on the other end of the room. It was frosted over with a silvery sheet of tint on the outside but the illumination was still welcome. It was obvious that there was a small break in the weather from the mid afternoon, on in the mid evening. Sly felt almost weak with happiness, just lying in the warm beam of light. It crawled over his body until it began to touch the cot adjacent to him. 

His head lulled to the side only for his eyes to widen when he saw that the cot was empty. As if on cue, the hiss of water came from a nearby room. To his near surprise, it was followed by soft feminine singing. The raccoon eased up onto his elbows then licked at his sticky lips. His face contorted into a moue of disgust at the taste on his lips; he reached a paw up to touch at his mouth then lowered his eyes to his fingertip, illuminated by the late-afternoon sun that came in through the westward window. …Lipstick? He was _absolutely_ _positive_ that she was _not_ wearing lipstick last night… after all, he would have tasted it when he kissed her in her sleep.

Sly glanced around the room, his eyes zeroing in on the block of wood with the lantern, the book of matches and… a small rectangular tube of _lipstick_. "Touché, Carmelita Fox," he whispered to himself. A grin crept across his scruffy muzzle and the bare-chested raccoon sat all the way up on his cot. Did she apply the lipstick then kiss him in his sleep or did she paint his lips with it as a joke? He could only hope for the former over the latter but either way, he was surprised that he hadn't woken up when it happened.

The next thing he noticed was that Bentley and the gang had visited the safe house a few times during the day while he slept. Some of the gear they had secured was now sitting in the middle of the room, including fresh clothing. His eyes returned to the empty cot besides him then panned about the area to see if there was anything else he'd not noticed right away. Sliding off the cot, he ambled towards the noise of the water, following it to the bathroom. Light filtered through, beneath the bathroom door.

The door was unlocked; he stepped in, squinting until his eyes adjusted. Carmelita's silhouette could be seen against the frosted plastic of the shower door, her soft humming never ceased. His sleeveless shirt was lying on the floor next to her pants and undergarments. A fresh change of clothes were neatly folded and resting on a small stand next to the sink.

In another lifetime, or possibly in his future, he could see this happening the exact same way but for a different reason… if he was ever so lucky, it could have been a typical morning before she went to work, after he successfully laid a foundation for a white picket fence and a family. If only he could ever be so lucky. Perhaps, one day, if he was ever clever enough to make Carmelita his wife, he would have joined her in that shower… not today, though.

Shifty eyes panned the bathroom for a moment then he lifted the toilet lid and seat and made quick work of his wake-up routine. He knew he couldn't flush the toilet without deviating the cold water from the bathroom pipes …but it would be rude _not_ to flush, knowing she had to come out of that plastic stall eventually.

Just when he thought he'd gotten away with being sneaky again, the shower stall opened just a little bit and her paw reached out, palm up in an expectant manner. "The conditioner is on the sink, Ringtail." Caught! Sly blushed fiercely, reaching back for the white bottle on the basin. He passed it to her without a word. "Cat got your tongue?" She asked.

"No, but a certain _vixen_…" he was suddenly interrupted by sharp laughter.

"In your dreams, Sly Cooper," She replied, waiting a few seconds before adding, "By the way… you sometimes talk in your sleep. Guess I never mentioned that when we dated." Sly's jaw dropped but not a single word came out. She then said, "Thanks for lifting the seat; a woman loves a housebroken man. Don't worry, I'll leave you some hot water. Close the door on your way out, so you don't let out all the warm air." Sly put the seat and lid down on the toilet thought about flushing it to get even with her but opted against it, then made his way to the door and slipped through, shutting it behind himself. Either he wasn't as sneaky as he used to be or she was getting better with age. Did he _really_ talk in his sleep? He was _almost_ mortified and yet, at the same time, he couldn't help but grin inwardly.

As far as the lipstick on his muzzle, he might _never_ find out how it got there; some girls took their secrets all the way to the grave and he had a feeling that he'd never get a straight answer to what happened while he was sleeping. But in his mind, there was nothing wrong with _fantasizing_ about how she might have applied it to him.

* * *

**Cooper stepped out of the **shower only to realize that the building was silent. He knew he'd have to hurry if he wanted to catch up with Carmelita but at all the same time, he also realized that some of the gear that the team had been bringing back throughout the afternoon was also missing. "They're working with her and not _me_?" He wasn't jealous, he was just surprised. 

It wasn't like he couldn't shower, though. It was tough being stealthy when covered in a day's worth of raccoon funk. Draped on his cot, fresh clothes had been laid out. A pair of handcuffs linked the sleeves together on the clean shirt causing him to grin. "Ah these subtle little notes she leaves," He mused aloud with a chuckle. She was just _too_ cute. Unwrapping himself from the damp towel previously used by Carmelita, Sly dressed quickly then left the towel on the cot.

Once ready, he left through the back door, into an alley and made tracks for the bank. The evening sunset was blanketed out by the oncoming second wave of snowstorms sweeping through the area. Plump shards of crystal tumbled from the sky in a gentle manner; it was the calm beginning before the major storm began.

Meanwhile…

At the bank, Sire stood on the roof, his hands folded behind his back. Nathanial Carrington, also known as The Reaper, stood besides him. Sire gut his gaze over to the other man then looked upwards at a chopper descending to the rooftop. "I've never seen you fail," Sire muttered. "It's a shame you couldn't even hold them. Those idiots have destroyed the Laboratory Castle just outside of town and now Donovan Loupe is working for them. Karla was slain once and if she dies again, she will have no way back as the Laboratory has been destroyed; she'll be without a body unless she's lucky enough to be slain by another female. My plans will be ruined if all these things happen. Your job is to protect her. When Clockwerk is completed, I want you to kill the clone of the skunk downstairs. The _real_ Steven is already in Panama, waiting for me. I don't _like_ having to change my plans, Carrington."

"Understood, my liege," Nathanial replied, averting his eyes to the snow-covered rooftop. It still held a great deal of the snow from yesterday's storm and now, with this new weather bulletin in the forecast, there would be at least twice as much snow to worry about. "You'd better hurry before the brunt of the storm arrives."

"That's why I'm going now," Sire muttered, watching as the helicopter's skids touched down upon the concrete plate built into the roof. "I have one more job for you, Mister Carrington."

"Yes?" The badger glanced up at his leader. The bridge of his nose was crooked but he refused to set or bandage it. There was a swell beneath his right eye and some of his facial fur was matted down from where Carmelita head butted him through the cell bars.

"This clone of Steven… His dreams have ceased and now he's beginning to have second doubts about finishing Clockwerk. If he changes his mind, he'll use Clockwerk to his own ends then offer the HateChip in payment. Those Cooper fools made a chip designed to destroy Clockwerk from the inside out, utilizing a computer virus. I don't put it past Steven's clone to give Clockwerk _that_ chip. We can't allow this to happen. It's on his workbench in a case, next to the real one. Find the fake chip and put this upon it," Sire said, handing over what appeared to be a clear sticker.

"And this is…?"

Sire grinned at the older looking badger. "The _real_ Steven understands my vision; he's designed a clear computer chip inside of a translucent film. If you place this sticker upon the fake chip, it will override the virus and… while it won't give Clockwerk his emotions back, it won't destroy him, either. He's necessary to my plans. His death would ruin everything I've worked for. When the Cooper gang is dead, meet me in Panama. It just so happens that the first three artifacts are on three different ships all docked near the Canal. That brings me _thirty percent closer_ to my goal in _one_ fell swoop. The other seven pieces will be retrieved by Slick Cooper or possibly Karla's future master-thief child. At this point, I don't care who retrieves my artifacts, so long as I get them."

Carrington nodded slowly. "As you wish, M'lord. I'll take care of Prague. See you in Panama." The Reaper stepped back, watching the effeminate lion prance towards the Helicopter. Once aboard, the chopper began to lift vertically into the sky until it disappeared in the clouds. Once above the storm, it began to move away from the city, leaving the badger alone on the rooftop. A soft noise caused his ears to flicker; the badger whirled around but no one was behind him. He narrowed his eyes and sniffed at the cold wind but couldn't detect anyone's presence.

* * *

**Carmelita Fox put her back against the wall**, peering over her shoulder, and down the corridor that ran alongside of her. Soft chocolate eyes flitted about, checking for any guards in proximity to her location and then her ears perked, standing tall in an attempt to listen. She could hear Slick Cooper speaking to someone else. "And so you see," said Slick, "Sire is only using you. Your _creator_ is only using you. They think because we're clones that we're as disposable as machines; that we don't have feelings or a soul. I don't _know_ if I have a soul but I have a heart and I assure you that Sire and his lackeys are making a grave mistake. Be careful and _do not_ trust Nathanial. They care about Clockwerk, not us." 

"I believe you," said the person in reply. It was the voice of Steven, albeit the clone of the skunk. "I wonder how Sire plans to carry this out when I've planned all along to have Clockwerk kill him. He's too power hungry in my opinion."

"That's what you fail to understand," Slick snapped in reply strutting back and forth in a light-footed gait. "They don't care about your opinion and will kill you for it. In fact, they plan to kill you for less than that. Your usefulness has run out. I'm on a mission, mind you. If the three of us can walk away from this, start a new life and have our own rights, then we're better off. I can't seem to convince Karla to walk away from this mission with her life and her abilities."

"She carries the soul of the true immortal version of Karla Chintzy," she other replied sullenly. "We can't trust her, unfortunately. I know you've taken to her and even call her 'mate' now, but her mandate is a personal one… she wishes to bare offspring with her abilities because it's something she desired in life, before her original death, several hundred years ago. But trust me, Slick, if you don't walk away from her this very moment, it will cost you your life by the end of the week, maybe even the end of the night."

"Unfortunate that we can't trust her," Slick sighed, sounding dejected. "I'm quite taken to Inspector Carmelita Fox but … Karla was… _is_ my first. She's… I don't know. I can't just abandon her, she's…"

"Special to you…?" the cloned skunk chuckled. "You're like your doppelganger, Slick. You're a hopeless romantic at heart. Perhaps the reason you're attracted to Carmelita Fox is due to the fact your original DNA provider is her soul mate. Even with all the science knowledge I've assumed, I have found nothing that suggests Soul Mates cannot exist. It's possible; there is no proof to refute it in any way."

"If they were soul mates, they would not be at odds from one another," Slick protested. "Regardless, I wish to change Karla's mind. But to be quite honest, I want to kill the Cooper gang first; their existence will only make my life more difficult."

"From our gathered intelligence," Steven said with a sigh, continuing with, "She is too set in her ways to love a Criminal. That doesn't mean her heart can't beat faster when she's around him. It matters not; she's the reason they're not together, as her willpower towards justice makes her who she is. While she could not say no to Sire's directly influencing powers, he wouldn't be able to program her to commit a robbery, either. You can't make the world's clumsiest person dance a ballet over night. It's impossible without years of brainwashing. The psyche is too powerful. I have work to do; I must finish Clockwerk ahead of schedule and send him to Panama. Then I'll ensure that he receives the HateChip designed by the Cooper gang. I had an epiphany this morning… His existence is a danger to us all. I'll be in my lab."

"We need to watch one another's back," Slick replied. "I'm off to try and talk to Karla. I want her to change her ways and walk away from this."

"It won't happen… but good luck. While your heart may be involved," Steven said, trailing off with a slow shake of his head. "She will put her mandate before thy status as mates."

"Thy?" Slick chuckled. "It's quite interesting how you've obtained so much of Steven's old memories that you waver in and out of his old, defunct archaic speech method."

Steven nodded, rebutting, "It's my personal quirk and it makes me who I am. Thou can'st deprive me of such as it makes me unique in mine own eyes."

"There you go, again," Slick chortled, patting his friend upon the shoulder. "You do it more when you're tired."

"Indeed, such is so," Steven's clone replied. "I've not slept in days, Slick. I'm physically exhausted. I'll be in the lab." A few seconds passed and Carmelita's ears flickered, hearing the chime of an elevator then the hiss of hydraulic doors shutting. Seconds later, she saw a shadow grow on the floor, coming into the intersection in which she hid. As soon as he came around the corner, she clocked him as hard as she could, and laid him out cold.

"I feel sorry you people feel like you have to fight for your rights but," she trailed off then shrugged. "Whether the world feels you should have rights or not isn't the point because I'm not a cop anymore, babe. I'm just the girl who overheard you say that ya wanna kill the Cooper Gang. Not on _my_ watch, buddy." She picked up the cane that lay besides his crumpled form and gave it a playful twirl. "I promised I would return this to its rightful owner; I don't rightly approve of thievery, _jerk_." She stepped over his body and sprinted off down the hallway with the Cooper cane.

Her free paw went to her ear and she began to speak softly, while dashing through the second floor hallway system. "Are we ready to shut them down?" she asked.

"Roger!" came the reply over her radio. It was Bentley's voice. "Penelope is going to flash the Electromagnetic Pulse and you'll retrieve her RC car, which will be rendered useless. Then, after a few minutes, we'll have her take the RC Chopper in to you and drop off night vision goggles. You'll fasten the RC Car to the suspended platform on the chopper then break a window so she can bring it back to the base. Your shock pistol will be useless after the EMP is fired and you wouldn't want to use it on someone like The Reaper anyhow."

"Why not?" Carmelita asked.

"I've been doing some research on these guys," Bentley explained to her. "His supernatural power is _lightning_ and using electricity as a weapon."

"Will the EMP have an effect on him?" She asked.

"I've pondered that," the turtle said over the channel. "But I don't think it will affect him. I hope my hypothesis is incorrect but an EMP should not do anything to a living breathing body. It only renders devices inoperable. At any rate, it won't have _any_ effect on Clockwerk; he's being specifically built to withstand an EMP blast… however, Steven's progress should be halted to some extent. His tools and computer components would need replacing although I would hope the HateChip would become worthless, though I doubt luck would be so kind to us."

"Roger," replied the vixen, still running down the hallway. "When are you going to fire it?" she asked.

"In one minute. Be prepared," Bentley said before closing the channel. Carmelita Montoya Fox came to a sudden stop, her eyes widening. The hallway opened up into a large room filled with more guards than she could currently count. Mostly Rhinos and Czech-hounds, a mixed bread of wolf-dogs from the general region, seemed to inhabit this room as if it were a guard's lounge. At least two dozen heads lifted, all turning to stare directly at her. Her heart stopped and her breath caught. She froze, standing there in the doorway to the recreational lounge, her eyes as wide as saucers. She was outnumbered and didn't have any guns.

"…Crap." A soft whirring sound was heard, coming down the hall behind her. The RC car zoomed over the thin carpeting, zipping between her ankles and coming to stop in the center of the room. Almost all the guards stood up at once, first glancing to the remote control toy then glancing back to Carmelita. "You're all under arrest, have the right to remain silent and are being taken in for questioning in regards to the kidnapping activities of the Secretariat General of Interpol."

The group of men suddenly burst into laughter only for Carmelita to clinch her eyes shut. The RC Car flashed with an incredibly bright light that stunned every guard in the room. Simultaniously, a capsule on top of the car cracked open and every light in the building went out. Every flashlight and every battery operated device became useless in the entire facility. Carmelita opened her eyes after a few seconds, already getting a head start on having her eyes adjusted.

Also, it was known that foxes had far better natural night vision abilities than rhinos _or_ canines. She stormed into the room, drawing the Cooper Cane and started out by swinging it like a bat. The fight was on; it was time to rumble. The guards in the room had been blinded by a stunning flash just before the lights went out and now Carmelita, who knew to close her eyes before it happened, was the only one with the ability to see _anything_. While it was difficult to see in the darkness, she could make out the outline of each target.

She hooked the staff around the neck of the nearest guard and flipped him around, placing her foot on his neck. Carmelita snatched a Beretta off of his hip, she flipped it around in her paw, holding it by the barrel, then clocked him in the face with the handle. Another guard blindly approached her with his own handgun pointed in her general direction.

She dropped the cane, thrust her paw at his weapon and caught the barrel of his pistol against the padding of her left palm. The slide of the handgun slid backwards into the loading position then she squeezed her fingertips around the weapon and jerked her wrist down then upwards. The handgun came apart, becoming a useless hunk of metal. She still held the sliding mechanism in her paw and quickly used it to strike the second guard in his face. Bringing her right paw swooping downwards, she aimed the Beretta low at the second guard, then fired, striking his armored vest at point black range, surly cracking at least one of his ribs.

Carmelita dropped the gun slide that was in her left paw then put her palm against his face and pushed. He teetered backwards and collapsed to the ground, semi-conscious with labored breathing. She slid her foot beneath the cane and lifted it to her awaiting paw then reached it outwards to snag the next closest dark form, hooking it around his neck. She wasn't quite as handy with it as Sly Cooper was but it was light weight, strong and had a good grip to it. She pulled back against the cane and put her feet outwards, literally walking up the rhino's chest while holding the cane tightly in her left paw. Her feet came up from his torso, delivering a double kick beneath his jaw, shattering that glass jowl with ease.

The vixen followed through into a loose somersault, until her feet touched the ground again, half kneeling. The rhino stumbled backwards from the attack, the hook now unlatched from his neck. She then lifted her right paw and eased in on the trigger, squinting her eyes to anticipate the blast flash. The gun bucked in her paw, causing her ears to flicker; the noise of firing a weapon indoors was nearly deafening and she'd already fired it twice. The guard was thrown backwards from the pointblank round, received in his armored vest.

He collapsed to the ground with a thud, wheezing for breath. She hopped over his form and went for the next guard, her ears perking simultaneously at the sound of an incoming RC Chopper in the background. A deep scarlet flash occurred, dimly illuminating the room in a crimson strobe-light effect. Carmelita half-narrowed her eyes, to keep her vision dilated. Almost immediately a nearby guard was mowed down from a volley of blaster fire.

Fox dropped to the ground, extending her toned thighs. The long, lean leg swept across the floor, forcing a canine soldier's ankles out from beneath his body. He landed unceremoniously upon his tail with a grunt only to receive a metal pole across the back of his head, seconds later. He slumped over to the side, face to the ground. The athletic vixen then slammed the cane into the floor, ejecting herself upwards and back to her feet. Due to the deep garnet-colored strobe effect, her movements seemed animated as if in slow motion to the squinting guards around her.

The pink-painted remote control chopper made another pass, opening fire on the guards that threatened to broadside the suspended inspector. Out of the corner of her eye, she noted a charging soldier approaching her at a high rate of speed. Carmelita stepped to the left, using the cane hook to snatch another guard's neck then let the charging guard clothesline himself at the neck, against the extended pole handle. From the collision, both guards were knocked to the floor, inadvertently yanking the cane from Carmelita's paw.

It clattered to the floor the way a typical metal rod would sound being strewn across a hardwood floor. A second remote controlled helicopter zoomed into the room, opening fire from a fresh angle. An emerald hued glow filled the area as a stream of rapid fire shots lanced through the recreation lounge. Bentley's chopper swooped about, dodging one of the guards who swung his rifle at the two mechanical flies as if he were holding a baseball bat.

"It looks like freakin' Christmas lights in here," Carmelita muttered, carefully evading the wrath of both choppers. Their combined fury cleared the remainder of the room within a few minutes, bringing every guard in the room down to the floor. A few miscellaneous groans were heard from a few of them, while others were simply silent. Carmelita leaned over, snatching the Cooper cane from the floor, flipping her tail upwards before standing straight once more. It was one of those partially-unintentional '_I'm sexy and I won_;_ hear me roar_' poses that someone like Sly would have wanted to witness.

She gave the cane a little victory twirl and grinned a bit. After taking a moment to wipe the handgun off with her shirt, she ditched it with a shrug and approached Penelope's chopper. The Night Vision Goggles and a new electronic radio earpiece hung from a well-braided piece of plastic 'gimp' rope. It was a nice, feminine touch as far as Carmelita was concerned. She unlaced the flat, plastic string piece and removed the goggles and earpiece then walked back across the room and picked up the RC car that was now powerless. She reached a paw up and plucked the now-useless earpiece from her ear and tossed it to the floor, replacing it with the new one that hadn't been affected by the Electromagnetic Pulse.

Carrying it back to the hovering chopper, Carmelita took a moment to secure it to the braided plastic rope then turned her attention back to the goggles. She brushed her paw back through those dark hued tresses of headfur, craning her neck back a bit. The goggles were fitted over her head then she released the wave of hair which cascaded forth once more. Tucking the straps behind her ears to make them comfortable, she adjusted the size just a bit then switched the night vision's power button.

A soft, phosphorescent green bathed her eyes, showing her everything in the room. The RC Chopper, almost directly in front of her, was a brighter green object with a fair amount of definition and texture displayed to her. Things in the distance were a duller coloration of green while the background was only a shade lighter than black.

"Be sure to avoid a gunfight," Bentley said over the radio into her ear. "The flashes of multiple guns will cause the lens to flair up and all you'll see is a bright mess with no clarity. That's the only drawback to using N.V.G.'s. Penelope is going to bring her car back to the base checkpoint and do a quick re-install of the electronic components so we can use it on another task. I'm bringing my Chopper back to cover hers. When you get to the third floor, let me know and we'll go into phase number _two_."

"Understood," Carmelita replied, sliding the handle of the Cooper cane through her belt, across the back of her posterior. A playful little thought popped into her head and she whispered to herself, "I bet you'd love to be that cane, right now, Ringtail."

"What was that?" Bentley said over the radio.

"Nothing, I'm talking to myself. _Carmelita OUT_," She replied, reaching to her ear to close the communication. Carmelita approached the nearest window, struck it with the cane causing it to crack then turned to the choppers. "You'll have to shoot it out; the glass is pretty thick." She then turned away from the window and took off in a sprint, leaving the choppers to deal with their own method of escape.

* * *

**Creamy streaks with **carnation highlights; Karla Chintzy brought her paws out before herself, drawing the power within to force the men away. Donovan's followers were becoming a nuisance to her and she was tired of playing with them. The Czech wolfdogs were combining their abilities to compete with her powers but Karla had no intention of being defeated to a bunch of students. 

Her palms began to glow; those glyphs inscribed in the padded portion of her paw incandesced softly. She brought her arms outwards in a sweeping motion at shoulder height and each one of the five men were thrown head over heels across the dark vacuity until they disappeared from her eyes. She narrowed her gaze and smirked, prancing around in the dark with her chin held high. "And that," she said, placing her paws upon her hips, "is what you get, children!"

Karla paused then folded her arms and tightened her paws into fists. She knew what came next. Her woman's intuition was sharp; she called out with a smirk, "So, are you ready to avenge your beaten students? Never send children to do a man's job, eh Donovan?"

His reply was concise. "Your trite banter is not important, Miss Chintzy. Let us begin."

* * *

**The enshrouding gloom felt almost stuffy in a way.** Guards were quick to discover that their flashlights and stun guns did not operate. Any guard in the building who already had night vision found that the batteries were depleted and that the electronics were malfunctioning. Also, it didn't take long for a rumor to start by word of mouth that guardsmen were dropping like flies. 

Carmelita Fox crouched on her haunches, perched atop of a cafeteria table in the center of the lunch room, upstairs. The green phosphorescent advantage showed _seven soldiers_ all within unbelievable proximity. She specifically positioned herself to be upwind of them, just west of the air conditioning vent in the ceiling, so that they couldn't detect her scent.

"And then Murphy was gone," one of the guards said to the other six. "I was standing _right next to him_ and suddenly, I'm tripping over his leg. I know it was him… Now I've got his damn action express and I'm going to use it on the killer, dammit."

"I thought those bosses split for South America," another guard muttered. "They're the only ones capable of doing this kinda stuff."

The vixen tightened her jaw, rolling her eyes. She nearly had to bite her tongue not to say anything. '_Central America, you idiot_,' Carmelita thought to herself. Her thoughts then turned to something simpler. '_I wonder what kind of gun he's got; probably a Desert Eagle or something.'_ Her eyes shifted, recounting the seven guards.

Now that he was telling all his buddies, she changed her mind about what was and what wasn't a threat in this room. Slowly removing Cooper's cane from her belt, she clinched it between her paws tightly, wondering if she could slip the hook out and snatch the big gun out of his holster. She'd need a steady paw to accomplish such a feat but felt ready to try it.

Slowly but surly, the vixen crept across the table, reaching out with the cane. The hook slipped gently beneath the button of his holster, detaching the metallic button with the utmost care. She then turned the hook slightly so that it slid into the trigger guard of the weapon. How in the heck did Cooper do this with only one paw and make it seem so easy and effortless?

Carmelita lifted the weapon out of the holster, surprised by the lack of difficulty in the matter. To her dismay, the gun was an AMT Automag V, one of the lightest fifty-caliber weapons on the market. Lighter guns meant more recoil, although it _did_ have built in compensator ports at the tip of the barrel.

In her opinion, such a weapon was _too_ light for a magnum round of this power. She wasn't about to argue, however, and took the gun, checking to make sure that it was fully loaded with seven rounds. She slid it down the back of her pants then used the cane once more, trying to go for a second successful score. This time, she went for a different angle and used the sharp hook to pierce the side of the cardboard box of bullets resting on the table next to the guard. She brought it back to herself, pleased with the results. Her paws were shaking from the now-top heavy cane with a box of bullets snagged at the tip. Had the guard not been wearing so much body armor, he'd have probably felt the amateur theft of his weapon.

She opened the box of shells with her thumb. The box originally held _twenty_ rounds but only six were missing. That left her 14 cartridges; two full refills worth in ammunition. The Inspector tucked away the box of bullets into a pocket then paused, listening to them continue their conversation.

Carmelita crept back away from the group, holding the gun in one paw and the cane in her other. She was a little disappointed that these men were so very unprofessional. They simply continued their banter… "No, man. There were _two_ cops. They were like, twins or something. It was freaky, though. One shot herself, the other one died from it." Obviously, he was speaking of the other night when Karla had taken over Carmelita's future-doppelganger's body.

"Bullcrap," said another. "You're mixing fact and fiction; there is no such thing as people like the Corsican Brothers. Give it a rest."

"No, I'm serious!" the first one cried in defense. "I saw it happen! Then I was instructed to carry off the body of the dead one. She was hot, though. It sucks that she was dead but it was kinda nice to get my paws on her… even if it was just to carry her down to the sewer and dump'er ass with the trash."

Their conversation quickly caused Carmelita to see red. One of the guards fished out a cigarette and struck a match. The flame sprang to life, causing a light green flair to creep up in the goggles. She waited a moment for the flash to pass, squinting her eyes for a moment, then the guard extinguished the match, throwing it on the tile floor. "The fox cop, right? She was okay," he said, taking a puff on the cigarette. "I'd have hit it once or twice," he added, exhaling a plume of smoke from his nose. He then added, "But I still think your story about one shooting herself and hurting the other was crap."

"Whatever man," said the first, throwing his paws up in the air. "I was in the doorway when it happened. Later, I was the one to pick her tail up and throw the body out. That one hardly had a scratch and she started bleeding _under_ her shirt; there wasn't a single hole in the shirt – I know that for a fact! You guys know there is some freaky-ass supernatural crap going on, here. You've all seen it. Why is _this_ so damn hard to believe, all of a sudden?"

"Will ya just shut up, already?" said another, who'd been quiet all along, up until this point. "And from what I overheard, both those bitches were the same person."

Carmelita simply couldn't stand it anymore. They were all scumbags. One apparently suffered from necrophilia and boasted to throw her body out like trash… another boasted that he would have had sex with her and a third was referring to her as a female _dog_. Her temper couldn't be held back any longer.

She leapt upon the table they were sitting at and, using Sly's Cane, struck the one who had been currently speaking. "¡No soy una perra! " she shouted at the first one, then dropped to the table, performing a sweep-maneuver that caught the second speaker directly in his face with a booted foot to the mouth, adding, "¡No doy mi cuerpo a los hombres al azar!" then she came to a stop and single-handedly she leveled the recently acquired hand-cannon directly at the chest of the one who boasted to have felt up her doppelganger. This was the same man who claimed to dump the body into the sewer, which angered her that much more. "¡Le mataré, usted pedazo de mierda!" The trigger was pulled and the gun blast flared up her goggles with a bright white blotch of lighting.

The lack of weight in the weapon, combined with the powerful blast, caused her right paw to lift almost vertical, above her head. When the white flair began to dissipate, she noted the body began writhing on the floor; the man had a fairly large hole through his chest. The magnum rounds had punched through the medium-class armored vest he wore due to the proximity – large enough for a person to put their fist through, although it didn't continue out through the backside. His jaw quivered for a moment then his body grew still. The four remaining men scattered, taking up positions underneath the nearest tables in the dark.

"Do you hear me?" she shouted at the top of her lungs. "I am not a female dog, I do not 'hit it' with random men, and … for the love of God, I will _not_ let some filthy sack of crap boast that he threw me out like trash after copping a cheap feel! Do you understand me? Do you! Do you hear me? Do you HEAR ME!" She re-aimed the large gun and pulled the trigger, blowing away one of the seats that was next to a guard who hid under a nearby table. "I _can't_ take you to jail; so be it, I'll whip you all if I must!"

The other guards, four in all, were quick to get up, readying for a fight by drawing their firearms. Not wanting to waste all of the ammunition, she opted for the cane, snatching either end with her paws, keeping it out before herself. She watched as the guards backed up into a huddle, facing outwards in all directions due to the darkness.

Carmelita gave a grin then slid her paws together until she held it like a bat. Pivoting on her heel, she swung as hard as she could, careening across the sidearm of two guards, side by side, who were holding their weapons outwards at an even height. Both their guns went skittering across the ground, one of them approached her; she gave it a hard kick, until it stopped at the other side of the room.

She pivoted once more, going into a full circle to build up the momentum. She elevated the second attack, catching both guards across their faces. They spilled backwards, bowling the two guards behind them to the ground. Her arms extended, using the cane to hook up one of the remaining conscious guards by the belt. She drew him close, sliding her paws down the cane, choking up on the grip then bowed her head. She jerked her paws to the left, so that he was swung about in a way that caused her headbutt to connect with the side of his face, knocking him clean out.

The remaining guard scrambled to his feet, crawling out from under the 'slumbering' bodies of the fourth and fifth soldier. Carmelita was quick, lancing the cane outwards and hooking it around his ankle. He fell forward, landing flat on his face. She then pounced like the fox she was, landing squarely upon his back. Lifting the cane, Carmelita brought the hilt down upon his head, hard enough to provide a concussion but the guard remained conscious.

She then snagged the hook-end into his uniform collar and hopped off of him, putting all of her weight into swinging the cane over her shoulders and down as if chopping wood. Even with her adrenaline, it was far harder for her to pull off this maneuver than it would have been for Sly Cooper. Normally his favorite method of sneak attack; anatomically speaking, men had a muscle in their shoulders that women didn't possess. She was able to pull it off, but she struggled just the same, huffing softly once the soldier's body slammed into the ground at her feet.

Carmelita took off for the nearest doorway, winding up in a stairwell just outside of the cafeteria. She dashed up the staircase and headed for the top floor. She had tucked the gun in her waistband and the cane still rested in her paws. At the top of the steps, Carmelita came to a doorway which she kicked hard, throwing her weight and momentum into the act.

The door burst open, slammed into the wall and became stuck in place. Carmelita stood there, in the doorway, watching over the large corner room that took up the top half of the building. Windows at the far end, in the corner, along the east and south facing walls, allowed low illumination to filter into the room. Within, Donovan and Karla were locked in combat with one another.

Karla received a lashing across her face from one of those tendrils of shade. It struck her like a whip but she was quick to recover, thrusting her paws wildly in the air. Donovan found himself levitated through the air and ejected across the room into one of the windows. It didn't crack or break, obviously made of high end bullet-proof composite.

He slid down to the floor then clinched his paws together. Shadows came up from the floor, directly in front of the windows. They rose up and wrapped around Karla's face, blinding her so that he could keep her from using her powers. She took a deep breath, inhaling his scent then began to charge him blindly.

Donovan quickly stood up, snatched her by her arms and guided her face first into the nearest wall. A dent in the concrete showed a metal rod just beneath, where the wall was reinforced. She slumped to her knees, facing the wall, panting hard. Donovan stepped back a bit and called forth the minions of the shadow. A dozen black tendrils of night assaulted her across the back, whipping her repeatedly. They tore through the cloth of her shirt, shredding parts of the fur on her back and leaving light gashes against her flesh. She grunted with each strike, still blind to use her abilities from the shadow that clouded her eyes.

"A burden you've been, Karla Chintzy," Donovan muttered. "For some reason, this punishment seems justifiable."

Suddenly, Carmelita's lens flared again, causing her to squint before reaching up and lifting the goggles so that they rested upon her forehead. A glowing bolt could be seen; she squinted in an attempt to dilate her vision. By the time she was able to see, it was too late; Nathanial Carrington stood tall, above the collapsed body of Donovan. A solidified bolt of lighting had been used like a wooden stake, impaling the shadow master through his heart. The Reaper put his foot upon Loupe's head, looking triumphant.

Karla sat up on the floor, ragged breath causing her lower lip to quiver, her paws shaking with adrenaline and rage at the humiliation she'd suffered. Carmelita quickly covered her muzzle, seeing that Donovan's life was now over… shade could not stand up to the power of light or fire. With the solidified lighting bolt jutting out of his back, he would not wake up. The paralyzed man lay there, staring off into the distance.

"Would you like to do the honors?" Carrington asked, passing the Felox some sort of blade. In the dim lighting, Carmelita couldn't tell if it was a short sword or something more elegant. Karla snatched the weapon from the badger's paws and smirked. Carmelita pulled the goggles back over her eyes and quickly mashed her finger in on the setting display button. It cycled through night vision to thermal display to x-ray instantly, so that the bolt of lighting was no longer blinding.

"With pleasure," she muttered, lifting the blade high above her head. Carmelita drew the magnum into her left paw, leveled it on Karla's forehead and fired. The bullet ripped from the barrel, causing the gun and her left arm to lift straight up into the air. The round, however, was true to its mark and found Karla Chintzy's forehead. It was, unfortunately, too late. She was already in mid-swing. The blade came crashing down with the follow-through strike. It separated Donovan's head from his shoulders in a grisly display of death; the mental image of the splatter on the wall and floor quickly caused Carmelita to shutter. She was glad she couldn't see it with the x-ray setting.

It reminded her of one of the dreams where Sly died to Clockwerk. The one where she was in the small office, interrogating the attacker in that café. …The one where his blood was splattered across the wall when Clockwerk used a tail feather to impale him. That vision quickly faded from her eyes, watching Karla's boney form slump back against the wall.

Carmelita approached Karla, aiming the powerful gun, which still had five rounds in it, and put it directly to the half-breed's chest, firing twice in succession. Both blasts ruptured from the back side of the powerfully augmented clone, cracking the window behind her. Carmelita's paws were lifted into the air from the powerful recoil. Inspector Fox then re-lowered her weapon and took two more shots, putting massive holes in each shoulder with one more fired directly at Carrington. The badger was unharmed as the round disintegrated from heat and intense energy that surrounded the man's body.

Karla, on the other hand, dropped to the ground, her breath raspy. Carmelita grinned inwardly. "I didn't separate your head from your shoulders, because you'd attack me on some sort of metaphysical level and that's crap. No, I'd rather incapacitate you then chain you to the bottom of the ocean."

"I'm not considered immortal for nothing; if any woman kills me, I take her body," Karla whispered in a husky voice. Strands of flesh began to stretch out from the wounds, seeking to seal the massive holes in her stomach and shoulders but this went unnoticed by Carmelita, whose goggles had been set to display x-ray. However, Carmelita _could_ see the Felox's lower ribs mending themselves, followed by her shoulders.

Karla then thrust her paw outwards. Glowing glyphs etched into her palms quickly flashed once the connection was made, throwing Carmelita into a nearby wall with exquisite force. Carmelita narrowed her gaze, staring at the white bone structure of her enemy. She knew exactly how she wanted to kill Karla but making it happen just right was going to be difficult. Perhaps fighting the Felox in the afterworld was her only chance after all.

Karla was still slumped up against the wall, trying to heal her wounds. She was fazed but the distraction wouldn't last forever; Inspector Fox had to make the situation more permanent by completely removing the woman's head. It would be risky but she also knew that Carrington wouldn't attack her body if she was in a coma, because he'd be killing Karla as well, especially if the Felox won.

Nathaniel was quick to keep his cohort alive, however. He waved his paw outwards, causing a bolt of lighting to reach out for the Magnum. Instead, it deviated for the larger metallic item in her other paw, striking the Cane. The way it was designed, Cooper's cane absorbed the energy without electrocuting Inspector Fox. She opened fire again, this time shooting at Nathaniel once more. Caught in the moment between recharge, having just thrown electricity, his defenses were down and the bullet clipped his shoulder, spinning him like a top.

Karla finished healing her injuries with the power of her immortality. She slowly made it to her feet, looking rather weathered. "You stay back," Karla muttered to the panting badger who was tending to his own wound, now. "She's mine," the Felox added, narrowing her eyes, regardless of the lack of illumination.

Carmelita was taking the opportunity to refill the Magnum, but Karla threw her paws up in the air, causing at least half the box to go flying out of Inspector's paws. The attack also knocked the night vision goggles from Carmelita's eyes; the bulky device crashed to the floor with a dull thud, casting a soft white and green glow onto the floor directly behind it. Bullets spilled across the ground, rolling every which way. Outside of those windows, snow was still falling, providing a light gray sky that helped both of them to see one another. Carmelita's natural vulpine night vision and Karla's natural feline-fox-mixed night vision made it so that both predators were able to see one another.

Carmelita took the half-loaded magnum and pushed it back into her pants pocket then bared the cane once more. Chintzy thrust her left palm out, her pink glyphs causing her paw to glow gently on the bottom side. A powerful force struck at Carmelita's ankles, knocking her to the floor. Carmelita was faster on her feet than Karla gave her credit for, however. Doing a quick handstand, Carmelita bound forth, on the attack once more.

She landed on her feet then swung the cane hard. The hooked tip hit Karla beneath the temple, the metal tip sinking into the flesh and fur at the side of Chintzy's head. That tip continued through, removing Karla's left eye, completely. Almost immediately, the immortal mistress of beauty screamed in anguish. She threw her paws outwards in defense, throwing every object in the office. A desk, pens, chairs and even Carmelita was hurled back to the far end of the room. She snatched the night vision goggles from the floor and put them over her head, not quite covering her eyes with them just yet.

Suddenly, a blast in the roof occurred; one of Bentley's bombs went off, making a hole in the rooftop. Carmelita sat up, able to see the dim outline of her breath now. Having fallen immediately from her forehead, the night vision goggles hung around her neck now; the somehow managed to slide down over her face, over her muzzle. Without further waiting, Sly Cooper hopped in from above with a graceful somersault just to show off.

He landed between the women and Carmelita was quick to react, tossing him the cane from where she sat on the floor, at the opposite end of the room. Sly snatched the cane from the air and gave it a playful twirl. "Thanks babe! I always knew I could count on the top cop to recover my stolen heirloom!"

"Don't mention it," Inspector Fox grunted softly, coming to her feet. "If you want more lipstick loving, like you got last night, you'd better use it on these idiots!" She said that, just to piss of Karla that much more but the Felox was in too much anguish to care at the moment.

Karla continued to writhe in agony, from the bloody hole in the side of her face. She glared through her right eye at Carmelita then reached her paws outwards. Carmelita suddenly reached for her neck as if an invisible paw was clinching her by the throat. Without further warning, Karla swung her paw outwards and Carmelita was thrown away from the wall, slamming into the cracked window. She connected with the glass at such an impact that it shattered and Carmelita went out through it, disappearing into the night.

Sly's eyes widened and his heart froze. In that instance, he thought she would be dead for sure. He gripped the incandescent cane in his paws tightly, still glowing from the absorption of Reaper's lighting bolt, earlier. Quickly charging Karla from her left, where she couldn't see him coming, Sly lifted the cane into the air and swung with all of his might.

The electrified cane transferred all of its stored electrical energy back into Karla with the first powerful connection, against the side of her head. He'd never killed a woman, let alone any person in hot, passionate blood before. All he saw was red from the loss of Carmelita and acted on impulse. Karla never saw her end coming. Her head was completely separated from her shoulders, adding to the wanton display of gratuitous violence that painted the floor and walls from Donovan's death. There was no scream or sharp cry of agony this time. Her head, from the neck up, passed through the window and her body collapsed to the ground, first kneeling then spilling over onto the front of her torso.

Sly didn't waste another minute; he rushed to the broken window, looking out into the cold night air. Shocked and suddenly elated, Carmelita was dangling from the ledge. She was struggling in the cold; her numb, frozen fingers were starting to give out. Her head lifted and her eyes met with his. She was losing her grip, beginning to slip from the concrete ledge. Cooper's gaze was soft and yet full of concern, begging for her to trust him… she had no choice in the matter.

He thrust the cane out to her and she reached for it. Her paws locked up from the bitter cold and she began to fall. Sly acted on impulse and jerked his wrist, snagging her clothes with the hook that was still stained in Karla's blood. He made the graceful maneuver with a simple twist of his wrist, using only one paw on the cane, keeping his other paw on the windowpane. His chest tightened, holding her weight which was extended by the now-top heavy pole. And yet he made it look easy…

Something struck Sly from behind and he collapsed, dropping the cane. It caught, diagonally, in the window, leaving Carmelita to dangle from the hook but struggling to get up over the ledge. Sly slid to the ground, reaching behind his head with a groan. Nathanial Carrington, on the other side of the room, lifted his paws, causing electric force fields to cover all the windows and the doorway leading into the room. Carmelita struggled, hanging from the ledge, unable to make her way back in through the window due to the force field.

Now it was just Sly and Slick, paw to paw, with no weapons. After glancing at the window to make sure that Carmelita was still there, Sly turned his attention to Slick and the two began to circle one another, bringing their paws up with the intent to finish this the old fashion way.

"Sorry I'm late to the party; your girl thought to put me down for the rest of the night with a dirty ambush but," he glanced over at the window, where Carmelita was struggling, "She got what she deserved, now didn't she?" He folded his arms for a moment, sizing up his doppelganger then a smirk crept over his face. Slick sneered at his counterpart, announcing, "An interesting way to end this whole ordeal, don't you agree _brother_?"

(**A/N**: _This kind of scene is where people start to dislike my writing style and technique because I mix the point of view back and forth so much… It's action, though! You as the reader need to see both people as if you were watching this on a screen! Sorry if it confuses some people! Still love me?) _"We could have been on the same side," Sly muttered, ready to fight. "So let's get this thing done, already. I have a girl to save, punk." Sly wasted no time, charging the physically perfected clone. Slick reached out and snatched Sly's wrist then brought his knee up into Sly's gut, causing the protagonist raccoon to slump to the ground. Slick then used his elbow, bringing it down upon Sly's shoulders, knocking him flat to the floor. The clone wasted no time to finish the attack.

Slick Cooper picked up Sly by the collar than delivered an uppercut with his free paw, knocking Sly back onto his tail. Sly Cooper wasn't out of the game, though. He rolled back onto his shoulders then kicked his feet out, landing upon his heels, ready to fight again. Slick waved his doppelganger on, ready to fight as well.

Sly charged once more but Slick was far too skilled as a fighter, having obtained memories from Sly at the time of creation. The clone pushed his palm up beneath Sly's chin while kicking his foot between Sly's ankles and slammed the gray-furred raccoon back on the floor. Slick then leaned down, his black-furred muzzle brushing against Sly's ear. "Carmelita will be mine; she'll submit to… and fall in love with… _me_."

Sly kicked his legs out, bringing Slick to the floor. The gray raccoon grabbed the black-furred one by the collar and struck his enemy in the face, hard. Semi-dazed, Slick reached for Sly's shirt and lifted his right knee rolling backwards hard. Sly was pulled overtop of his doppelganger then kicked away, landing on his back, several feet away. Slick jumped back up and acted as though he was casually dusting himself off.

Sly stood back up then leapt into the air. He drew his feet up, beneath himself, keeping them together, and performed a spire jump, landing directly upon Slick's head. The unique style of kick caused Slick to be knocked to the floor but he was also keen to grab Sly by the ankles, slinging the gray raccoon to the ground as well. Both returned to the scuffle, rolling over one another, tumbling about in the tumult.

Their physical tryst continued until Slick snatched Sly by the throat and hurled the natural-born Cooper into the doorway. Sly was immediately zapped hard by Nathanial's force field. The gray-furred raccoon lay there for a moment, dizzy from the powerful shock. Slick approached him and picked him up by the neck, using his other paw to grab Sly by the muzzle. "It's time to die, Sly," Slick chortled. "I'll make it easy; snap your neck then you won't feel anything anymore. You'll have a few seconds of conscious thought as your brain dies; you'll see comforting things like a bright light… that's your mind's way of relaxing itself in the last seconds of life. I'll take _real_ good care of your vixen," he added.

Outside the window, Carmelita had pulled the magnum from her pocket, still dangling from the cane, several stories above the ground. She aimed it through the window and prayed for accuracy, her paws shaking from the cold. Her paw quivering, the gun shaking…

Slick's paws tensed up and Sly braced himself, still struggling in the clone's grip. His body was completely numb from the effects of the zap and so his motor skills had abandoned him. A shot rang out, causing Sly's ears to flicker. A magnum round flew in through the window, now electrified by passing through the field of current.

Simultaneous to Carmelita's squeeze of the trigger, the sharp eyed Slick Cooper cut his gaze over at the window; his pupils dilated and his jaw began to part. "…Oh _shit_."

The bullet hit its mark, illuminated from the electricity so that it looked like a tracer line streaking through the dark vacuity. The little golden light made a beeline for Slick Cooper, smashing into his skull. It was all over… Slick Cooper was no more.

Before Sly could react, the injured Nathanial Carrington stood up enraged that his side was losing control. He rushed the window and reached his paw through the electricity with ease, shoving the Cane outward. It slid out from where it was stuck in the window and Carmelita began to fall. Sly was still trying to recover but looked up just in time to see it all happen. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

In the flash of an eye, something small went down, passing the window. Everyone's attention was distracted; Bentley's RC Chopper came in through the large hole in the ceiling. Bentley's small green-lit bombs began to erupt from the small cargo door under the chopper, bombing the Reaper with a quick attack. Carrington whirled around and began swinging at the chopper with a glowing scythe in one paw, while attempting to throw lighting bolts at the mechanical nuisance with his other. Bentley's chopper swerved about, dodging the attacks in order to keep the badger's attention. The fighting lasted several minutes, while Sly struggled to get his motor skills back.

After a few moments, Penelope's RC Chopper came back up from the window, over the roof and down through the hole. Attached to the crane cable that hung beneath it was Sly's cane. It released the metal rod which clattered to the floor directly in front of Cooper, who was using the pendant of will to regain his senses more quickly, forcing himself to his feet.

* * *

Minutes prior… 

**Carmelita fell from the window ledge, her eyes widening **as that weightless sensation of vertigo overcame her. Sly's cane was still hooked in her half-ripped collar and her heart seemed to stop as she felt herself began to plummet. A small flash of an object caught her gaze, her tail fluttering up between her thighs and her hair rising upwards… Her paws reached upwards as if to grasp at anything to stop herself from falling.

A metal claw suddenly snatched her belt buckle. Her weight and the momentum from her fall caused a cable attached to that claw to become instantly taut. Her fall began to slow but it wasn't enough to stop her. Penelope's RC Chopper was pulled down by the weight of Carmelita's fall. She plummeted, albeit slowly, into the alley far below.

Without any sign of warning, she came to an abrupt stop, crashing through the plastic top of a green recycling dumpster. It was filled to the brim with paper and plastic soda bottles, cushioning her fall. The Chopper landed in the paper pile besides her, the rotors at a halt and the cable coiled on the Inspector's stomach.

Realizing that Sly was in danger before she even gave a thought to her own near brush with death, the Inspector, still in shock from the fact that she fell several stories, quickly unhooked the cane from her collar and shoved it into the claw's grip. She picked up the RC Chopper, lifted it in her right paw and gave the rotors a hard spin with her left paw. "Take this to Sly!" She shouted.

The pink painted chopper lifted up into the night sky, climbing vertically for quick altitude. Carmelita suddenly collapsed back into the paper as snow fell over her form. "I could have _died_," She groused. "What was that jerk thinking?" She muttered, panting as the shock began to pass, leaving her with the realization that she nearly fell to her death. If it wasn't for Penelope's quick thinking, her life would have been over.

A few moments later, watching as the top window flashed with illumination several times, Carmelita's ears flickered, hearing a double explosion. "Ah hell," She panted, still unable to climb out of the dumpster, just yet. From all of the intense physical combat, falling several stories into a dumpster and the over-all general state of mind she was in, the Inspector simply collapsed, fainting right there.

* * *

**Bentley's Chopper burst** into parts and pieces. The lighting bolt that hit it caused his cache of bombs to erupt, destroying his chopper instantly. Penelope's remote control chopper suffered a similar fate when Carrington snatched the claw cable in his right paw and sent an electric charge up the metal line. It ruptured her battery packs causing them to burst, consuming the plastic molding with fire. Both remote control helicopters fell to the floor in pieces, now tame and quiet. 

Sly was quick, using the distraction to his advantage. He picked up some of the magnum bullets that were scattered all over the floor. The raccoon glanced up only to see that Nathanial was now charging Sly once more. The badger wasted no time, hurling a lighting bolt at Sly. Somehow, when it hit Sly's cane, the metallic rod absorbed and deflected the attack again. Sly accidentally dropped most all of the rounds in his other paw from the intensity of the strike, leaving him with one bullet in his palm. He closed his fist around it, narrowing his eyes.

Sly charged the older badger; Cooper still held Carrington responsible for what was assumed to be the deathblow against Carmelita Fox. The badger lifted his paw again, forming another lighting bolt in his paw, but this one resembled a scythe, much like the one he'd had earlier. Sly held out his staff, using it to block the attack, absorbing current from the assassin's energy weapon. Sly drew back his other paw and delivered a devastating punch to Nathanial's gut. The badger's jaw dropped open with a grunt and Sly was quick to react, reaching his fist up and forcing the bullet down into Reaper's muzzle.

It immediately became lodged in Nathanial Carrington's throat, causing the badger to choke. The scythe disappeared and both of his paws came to his neck, trying to gasp for air. Sly lifted his cane, now glowing and charged from deflecting the lighting bolts and being used as a shield against the scythe, moments prior.

Sly gripped his cane in both paws and swung it like a bat. It hit Nathanial Carrington in the neck, causing the bullet to burst, immediately decapitating the badger and ending his life. Without even giving it another thought, Sly jumped out of the broken window and popped his parasail, heading for the alley, where Carmelita's body would surly be. Her form was motionless in a dumpster, which appeared to have a crushed plastic lid. His heart was pounding and his mind was screaming, assuming that she was dead.

Wanting to hasten his descent, Sly released the parasail halfway down the drop. His legs absorbed the impact by dropping into an immediate crouch, burying his paws into the snow. His legs were tucked up beneath his body and he paused for a moment before standing up. Just inches away, the lifeless head of Karla Chintzy stared up at him with an empty, accusing gaze; it was a sight that would later haunt his dreams but for now, his mind was on Carmelita and her safety. A sudden sprint; Sly made a beeline to the dumpster, climbing up the side of it.

There, inside, Carmelita Fox lay atop of a snow-covered plastic lid which bent and partially snapped at the hinges. Her fall had been broken by all the paper to be recycled as the dumpster had not been emptied in the last few days. Sly reached in dipped his paw beneath her head, slipping his fingers beneath the strap for the night vision goggles that still hung at her neckline; he gently pressed his fingertips to the nape of her neck to make sure it wasn't broken. A gasp of relief was visible from her lips in a cloud of warm air against the frigid chill that surrounded them. Her eyes opened and he saw himself reflected in those glassy amber orbs.

She draped her right paw over her chest, where the stitches were located from the gunshot. Carmelita flung her left paw across her forehead almost melodramatically, sighing up at him. Sly couldn't believe it; his relief was almost palpable.

"You're okay," he said, looking over the frozen metal rim. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Bull," she mumbled in a weak voice; it sounded as though the fall had knocked the wind out of her lungs and she'd only just gotten it back; she struggled to speak with a thin, hoarse tone. "I think I popped some of my stitches," she told him. "I need a sutcher kit; I can stitch myself up just fine," added the vixen, struggling to sit up.

Sly slid one paw beneath her legs and his other paw under her shoulders, lifting her out of the dumpster slowly. "They're all dead," he told her. "Everybody but Clockwerk. What do we do now? Do we shut him down or go after Sire and Steven?"

Carmelita gave it a moment of thought then said, "Let's leave Bentley, Penelope and Murray here to level the bank and Clockwerk; he's no threat in pieces and Steven doesn't have any operable tools to finish the job. You're with me, _Constable Cooper_; we're going to Panama to stop Sire and Steven from starting any more trouble."

"Actually, you're with _me_," Sly remarked, noting that he was carrying her.

"Put me down," she mumbled, immediately contradicting herself by reaching her paw up around his neck, half-snuggling into his chest. "I saved your life again," she told him; her words muffled into his collarbone. "And as for that heirloom pendant in your family vault… leave it in there _forever_. That thing sounds like bad news. And what girl wants _all_ boys anyhow?"

"Oh? Planning to have kids soon?" Sly said in a playful voice. He grunted, feeling her swing her heel back into his ribs, then laughed softly. "Let me guess; you want at least one girl because you want a protégé Carmelita Montoya Fox?"

"One word, Sly," Carmelita said with a roll of her eyes. "Just _one_ reason I'd want a girl." She gave him a moment to think about it but she could tell by his facial features that he drew a blank. She smirked inwardly and then simply said, "_Outfits_, Sly. It's all about the outfits. Another girl would know what I mean; I want at least one daughter for the sake of dressing her up in little outfits."

"Aw geeze," Sly grinned. "That's really cute, Carmelita. I thought you were always tough and macho for such a foxy lady?"

Carmelita looked up at him and rolled her eyes so that he could tell she thought his last line was lame. He started to grin but she was in a defensive and feisty mood, quickly replying, "Was I tough and macho the night I was in that black high-cut dress, dancing with you in front of Rajen? Consider yourself lucky to see this side of me, even if it only lasts for a moment. Just because I somersault off the rooftops with a gun in my paw doesn't mean I'm not a woman. Just… don't tell anyone." She offered a clever grin then buried her face again, partially for the warmth of his chest and partially to avoid letting him see her smiling.

Sly decided to be clever as well, returning fire with a warm breath upon her ear. "I won't tell anyone if you don't tell anyone that I kissed you."

She wasn't sure if he was referring to last night; how could he have known she faked being asleep? Carmelita lifted her head, glaring up at him; she decided to call his bluff and said, "Kissed _me_? When? Krakorav Volcano?"

"No," Sly said with an airy tone, being his playful self. He paused then said, "Right _now_." Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her own, causing her toes to curl and her tail to coil around his hip. Her ears went flat as if she was annoyed but at the same time, she leaned upwards, just slightly, pressing herself into that kiss. He carried her out of the alley, surrounded by fat little flakes of snow. Cooper's casual swagger through the pearl-colored street cover was reflected by the way he shuffled his feet through the snow with every step…

Carmelita had to wonder: _how in the hell did he have such control over her? _One thing was sure, she _loved_ it. "Damn you, Ringtail," She muttered in muffled tones against his lips…

**

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**

**A/N: I need your vote on an important issue; the question is down at the bottom of this note... **_There will be some measure of mushiness so that the epilogue and chapter 1 of the sequel make more sense in the way I've written them…… Not to say that I wrote Chapter 30 already, but I have some semblance of an idea for it. :) _

_Anyhow, I'm sorry for the delay! And stuff! And then I wronged you all by rushing the editorial! I'll hold my hand out and you can all slap it, 'kay? _

_So, did anyone feel bad for the Clones? You almost feel sorta bad for Slick when he's talking to Steven but then BAM, he's as bad as ever in the very next scene. Yeah, Sly came in and stole Carmelita's thunder concerning Karla but… I didn't feel like doing another dang scene with the two of them in Limbo. Been there; done that… twice! But yeah, I gave Carmelita the spotlight again, concerning the death of Slick… did you like that little quotable one liner? Hey, it was funny when Data said it in StarTrek The Next Gen: Generations, you know? Sometimes you go an entire story without any real cusswords… and then adding one zinger at the climatic scene is a great way to break the tension and cause the reader to chuckle. I know Slick's character wasn't designed the same way as data from star trek but, shoot, I still thought it was an amusing thing to say as your last words, when you're the hated badguy! _

_Anyway, Chapter 1 for my sequel, "SPY COOPER" is finished and ready for posting. It's edited, it's all nice and neat and ready to print… I still have chapter 29 and 30 to post but, in the past, I've always uploaded the first chapter of my sequel just as I finish the last chapter or two of the current story. Do you guys want me to post it? It may give away a little of the anti-climatic ending that I have planned for THIS story so… it would spoil things… so I'll leave it up to you guys… post the sequel or not? _

_Let me know! _


	29. Two Birds with One Stone

a/n: _I wrote the first 8 thousand words of this chapter… and it was good and it kept my attention but… I hated it. It wasn't powerful enough to be a climatic chapter. So… I might release it as an out take… it's just a bunch of conversations between Sly and Carmelita on the way to Panama. It's a dialogue between Sire and a small village of criminals and gang members just outside the Darien Gap… contracting their help to take over the three cargo ships… this isn't the first time I've decided to scrap a 10-plus page chapter and start fresh. Sometimes, I just want things to be RIGHT. It was a great chapter but it takes TOO LONG to get to the action and in a climatic chapter, we need ACTION baby! So, here you go! Let's get to the nitty gritty! _

_-kit

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_

Chapter -29-  
Two Birds with One Stone

**Cool wind and warm, stinging rain assaulted Sly Cooper**. The thievious raccoon was in a difficult position; he clung to a set of tension cables, flush against a metallic wall. A ten story drop yawned below his body, stretching out forever; there were so many ways to die…

Far below was churning waters. An impact at ten stories would surly end his life but if it didn't, it would certainly knock the wind out of him and numb his body on impact. If the landing didn't do the trick, drowning would. Then again, the massive blades of a cargo ship's propeller would slice and dice him into little furry giblets and he wasn't too fond of that idea, either. The hard rain, while warmer than it was in France, seemed to make the metal wall harder to scale.

Tension wires crisscrossed the metallic section, diagonally, vertically and horizontally. They were there to secure the four story wall of metal containers, assorted in colors, which would eventually be used on tractor trailers, in a shipping yard or on a train. Sly continued upwards, remembering how this entire ordeal began, starting from yesterday morning.

Once Sly and Carmelita trailed Sire all the way to Toulouse in France, they lost his track. He'd stolen a Concorde, number '14,332' from the AIRBUS factory that sat adjacent to the Toulouse Airport. Of the two Concorde jets on display in the factory, only one still flew. The '909' jet sat in disuse empty of fluids and with its electronics disconnected. This left Sly and Carmelita to charter a Leer Jet to Panama but their flight took all day.

Finally in Panama, Sly and Carmelita decided to have a little competition. They wanted to see who could secure the cargo first. Carmelita had been a little more difficult that Sly was ready for, however. She'd boarded the gangplank then pitched the board into the water. It left Sly only one option: He had to rail-walk his way up the mooring ropes then scale the wall of metal containers. The summit towered fourteen stories above the water and now that the rain was coming down, things were growing far more difficult.

The ship sat in a channel lock in the Panama Canal while a section of the lock filled with water. Sly glanced down over his shoulder and smirked at the fact that he was surrounded by ways to die. The only real problem was the fact that death greeted him from above as well. Cooper lifted his head, placing the bottom of his muzzle against the metal wall, looking straight upwards.

His eyes were squinted from the incredibly powerful rain, watching as tiny little glints of orange flashed high above. Men with assault rifles were spraying the area with bullets, trying to hit the raccoon but because of the intense rain, their visibility was limited. They knew he was there because they saw him just moments prior before the heavy rain started but now he was enshrouded in a natural veil. The only problem was the fact that his cover made climbing friction completely non-existent.

Cooper removed the cane from his teeth and clipped the hook into one of the horizontal tension cables then placed his feet firmly against the lip where one trailer was stacked upon another. He arched his back and locked his legs, pulling hard against the tension cable. Sly then retracted his feet, soaring straight up. The cane snagged another tension line, about fifteen feet higher.

Quite suddenly, one of the guns stopped firing. Seconds later, a shout of fear rushed passed Sly then quickly faded. The master thief glanced over his shoulder, seeing the body disappear in the heavy rainfall. Cooper half-cringed; he tried to block the image of a guard being torn asunder by the massive propeller blades in the churning waters. The other gun went quiet only for that very assault rifle to go flying passed, nearly striking the raccoon's shoulder.

Sly released his breath, coming under the sudden realization that he'd been holding it for a moment. The M4 rifle disappeared into the rainy void, beneath him. Without further warning, something snagged the tension line he was clinging to. The raccoon grimaced, clinching his paws around the cable so as not to slip. His eyes cut to the right and his jaw parted just a bit, seeing a guard clinging to it.

Having barely survived a three story drop, the guard's arm was caught in the line. He was bellowing in pain from falling three stories and landing on the high tension metal cable but it kept him from dying. With his free paw, the sopping canine reached for a gun in his boot. Sly narrowed his eyes, watching the man struggle for his sidearm.

Cooper, still hanging from his cane, swung his legs away then arched his back and kicked his feet forward. He swung to the right, hard, planting his heels into the guard's chest. The dog soldier jolted away from the metallic wall and went flying off into the haze, disappearing. Sly swung back and forth for a moment, at the edge of his cane, before coming to a stop. He then began his slow ascension, once more.

A feminine voice called to him from above. "Why, I must say I _am_ shocked, Ringtail! Usually I'm two steps behind you, but this time, I'm three stories ahead!" Carmelita was at the top, chiding him. He couldn't see her in the rain but she must have known he was here, struggling up the side of a metal wall, because of the guards that were shooting down the side at him. Of course, now that both guards had been dispatched and thrown overboard, Sly wasn't pinned down anymore. He tried the tension cable jump trick again, now only two stories from the top.

From there, Sly grabbed a diagonal line, putting the cane in his teeth. He wormed his way upwards then captured a diagonally crossing line which went back to the left. He made his way up, line by line, until he reached the summit. Pulling himself up and over the side, the raccoon looked around then called out, "Are you still here, Carmelita?" No answer and the rain still seemed too heavy to see more than a few feet in front of his face.

Almost as soon as he stood up, the rain ended abruptly. Sly Cooper stood there, in the warm breeze, soaked to the bone. He glanced around quickly then reached for his pants, giving them a light tug away from his crotch so that it wouldn't ride up his legs. Satisfied that no one saw, he began a relaxed swagger across the massive stack of cargo containers. The clouds, high above, were being pushed by a heavy jet-stream, causing the sun to emerge only minutes later.

A loud shot rang out, causing Cooper's ears to flicker. He ran to the edge of the aft cargo section, looking straight down at the ship's main deck, two hundred feet below. Another shot rang out, this time causing his heart to stop as the round passed through the fur of his tail, leaving a sizable hole in the section of fur.

Cooper reached his cane down and pried open one of the trailer doors, beneath his feet. Another shot rang out and the raccoon evasively dove off the side of the trailers, hooking his cane into the locking mechanism on the trailer door. It swung open, leaving him to hang in the open air for a moment. The dizzying high of assorted colors and shiny, wet deck down below caused his to grimace.

He placed his feet on another trailer then pushed back off, swinging the large metal door shut. Once he neared the open trailer, he kicked his body up and landed inside with the door slamming shut. When he sat up, he was atop of a box pile. The sodden raccoon pushed his paw into the first box he was sitting upon. Cooper closed his fingers around something warm and soft. _Clothing_! He went back to the door and pushed it open just a few inches so that a little light was let into the trailer.

Sly's natural night vision allowed him to see in the dim illumination. He secured a pair of pants and a shirt that were in his size and changed out of the wet clothes. He tossed the soaking wet garments further back in the trailer then shook hard, rapidly drying his fur out. It was time to press on but with the sniper out there, waiting for him, he would have to be clever about it.

Sly gave it a moment then put his cane into his belt, behind his back, then charged the trailer door. He kicked it open then popped his parasail, heading out into the open air. The deck, leading up to the large control tower, was shiny from the sunlight that reflected off of the water that now rested upon the deck. His tail fluttered out behind him in the light gale, soaring towards the conning tower. More shots rang out, passing with a hiss that caused the raccoon's ears to flick in annoyance.

"Almost there," he said under his breath, kicking his legs forward to try and expedite the course of flight. His eyes zeroed in on a porthole which was wide open. Sly put his feet together and swung his body forward. He was dead on, passing through the porthole, crashing to the floor somewhere in the crew's quarters. The parasail was balled up in the window and he landed unceremoniously upon his tail. This meant that he was sitting on the cane, which was uncomfortable against his lower back.

He reached up, yanking the parasail in through the window by its strings then balled it up and stuffed it back into his sail sheath, under the back of his fresh shirt. Sly stopped to look into a nearby mirror between two bunks then smirked. "Nice threads…" Sly mused to himself, taking a moment to look over the clothing. The silk shirt and high dollar slacks gave him a casual-pimp sort of look. Dressed like this, he could have strutted into any club and owned the show.

Cooper licked his paw then half-slicked his hair back; some of his bangs flopped back in an almost anime-style tuft above his eyes. "That's the look," he added with a chuckle. "Now just _where_ is Carmelita? She won't believe her eyes." A grin crept across his muzzle then he turned for the door.

There, in the doorway, was a man with two handguns trained on Sly's chest. Cooper approached him slowly, taking out his cane and placing the end on the floor. He held the hook so that it looked like a pimp's cane. All he needed now was a top hat or fedora. "I say, good sir," Sly announced quite dramatically. "A jolly good show, m'boy! Duel pistols and what-have-you! But you've made quite the grave error, ole' chap!"

"What the hell is you be talkin' about, gringo?" The Spanish speaking Lemur gave the left gun, followed by the right gun, a twirl on his finger. He then reversed the order, twirling the right then the left. Finally, he twirled both at the same time and shoved both weapons into his holsters. Sly took one step forward and the man removed the guns from the holsters once more, twirled them, then put them right in Sly's face.

"I say, I say!" Sly cried in the British accent. "A right nice performance, lad! But can you do _this_ with your weapons?" He then lifted the cane and reached it over his shoulder, using the hook to scratch an itchy spot on his lower back. The more he scratched at his back, the more his left leg lifted, starting to shake. His left leg continued to shake, rising from the floor in a fit of spasms.

Sly suddenly swung his cane downwards, in an underhanded swing that caught the bottom of the attacker's right pistol then he kicked his left leg half-way up, only to follow through with a quick kick from his right leg, using his full weight. His foot knocked the other pistol up, into the air. Before either one could hit the ground, Sly jerked his body about, swinging the cane like a bat.

The hooked rod clipped the lemur across the face, sending him spiraling to the floor. Each gun landed on the ground with a dull thud. Cooper landed on the ground with his ankles parted in a wide stance. He gave the cane a twirl to show off then put it down the back of his belt again. Sly took a bow then snatched up both pistols. He turned towards the open window he'd come in through then tossed each one out.

Sly turned back to the guy on the ground who dizzily struggled to regain his equilibrium. Cooper leaned down and spoke directly into the man's ear. "You're pretty good with those guns but something tells me you're a real wimp, paw-to-paw. You can either join your friends in the water or sit here and behave. They're out back, having a Propeller Party; the choice is yours."

To Sly's total amusement, the lemur stood up, approached one of the bunks and sat down on it, folding his paws. Sly cocked his head at him then smiled. "Good choice, Senor. Muy bueno." Sly then stepped out into the hallway and shut the door to the crew's quarters behind himself.

Now to find Carmelita.

* * *

**Carmelita Fox leaned around a corner**, watching several men going through boxes of cargo. Each container had been packed by category, making their jobs easier. Whenever they found a container with clothes, they moved on to the next. They were looking for a container filled with ancient stone and metal artifacts that was en'route to a museum.

She was letting them do all the work of searching but she was beginning to grow as frustrated as the search team. They moved on to an adjacent trailer, opening the doors and tearing into the first set of boxes. One of them shouted, "I've found museum brochures in this box and strange, old coins in this one! Get more men, this might be the trailer!" in Spanish.

Carmelita knelt down, staying out of sight. It didn't take long for more men to show up on the scene. She waited. It would take a while for them to find it, if it was even in the trailer. Each metal box was approximately fifty-three feet in length, so she knew it would take some time for them to find it. She hoped that they would; she wanted to rub it in Cooper's face.

Sly Cooper… he'd been rather cooperative as of late. He admitted to breaking into Interpol but swore it was to steal the HateChip replacement. If he was correct, it would be the only thing he'd ever stolen that she could actually overlook. Carmelita moved back into a nearby cargo container that had already been searched; she closed the door until it was only open about an inch. She watched through the tiny vertical gap, waiting and listening. Meanwhile, her mind wondered back to how her competition with Cooper began, earlier.

As she recalled, they were tracking Sire to France. He used his powers to enlist a small crew to fly a Concorde out of Toulouse Airport. It was one of the last remaining flight-worthy Concorde jets in existence, regardless of the retirement status. Sly offered to pay their way and charter a small Leer Jet; it was their best option.

She smiled inwardly, recalling the conversation which started around the time they took off…

"_I guess," she replied casually. "I'm just… I don't know. I've gone through a lot, you know? Not nearly as much as my doppelganger but it's pretty bad to think that she went through all that torment for **nothing**. She's dead now." Carmelita sat in one of the large, cushy leather chairs in the small business jet's cabin. _

_"I don't see it that way," Sly replied. She glanced down at the raccoon whose head was perched upon her armrest, looking up at her like a puppy dog. Instead of ignoring his statement, she rested her arm across his face and shifted her weight, wiggling into the comfortable backrest. He simply continued with his explanation. "She died so that you wouldn't have to. My doppelganger also died, Carmelita. Now she's with him… The thought of that provides me with some sort of closure on the issue." _

_"That's…" Carmelita withdrew her arm from his face, lifting her paw and placing it upon his head. "…very sweet of you, Sly. If I tell you something do you promise not to make a big deal out of it?" _

_"Sure," he replied with a slight nod, his muzzle never leaving the armrest. _

_Fox took a long, slow breath. She then said, "The future Carmelita told me that another doppelganger of herself, one who died before her very eyes, was being romantic with another version of Sly Cooper. After seeing the way they were entangled in their very last moments together, she was pretty sure something physical happened between them. A woman just knows that sort of thing and a woman knows herself better than any." _

_Sly's response was simple. "I could only hope to be so lucky." He trailed off for a moment, then smiled back up at her and told the Inspector, "I really wouldn't want to be alone without you, no matter if it's life or afterlife. Maybe I'll go to hell for stealing, or whatever, but nobody's perfect and I think we both went … _will go_… to the same place when we die. Love is a very powerful thing and I've already come to terms with how I feel towards you and about us." _

_"_**US**_, huh?" Carmelita looked away from him but her eyes panned back, watching him out the corner of her eye. A sly little grin tugged at the corner of her muzzle which made him smile a bit more in reply. His eyes shut and he listened to the sound of her voice as she continued speaking. "You could only hope to be so lucky," she said, repeating what he'd just told her. She then added, "When I barged into the Cooper Family vault (A/N: end of Sly3 Game), I realized one thing…."  
_

_"Yeah? What's that?" Sly asked, keeping his eyes shut and just listening to her. _

_Carmelita shifted her weight just slightly as the plane shuttered again, picking up speed on the runway. "I realized that I was going to lose my mind; I saw you lying there after Doctor M. struck you. I thought you were dead. I realized that I couldn't go the same way without you in my life. A part of me was ready to mourn; more than a funeral for a friend… Had you been killed, it would have been more like a funeral for a part of myself. I know for a fact that a part of me was ready to die inside..." _

_"That's really sweet," Sly replied. "But I realized something, too." _

_"Go on," Carmelita said. _

_Cooper's eyes opened, gazing up at her. "I realized that you'd make a great Carmelita Cooper." _

_"What?" Carmelita half-snapped in an attempt to appear insulted. Sly only grinned at her adorable outburst. _

_"It's like this," he said with a casual air to his warm tone. "Only a Cooper should be able to make it through that Vault. I struggled to get through it. You got through it, too. Doc M. used a flying machine to circumvent the tricks and traps but you actually got through it in time to help me out. That means you're witty, crafty and dexterous enough to make a great Cooper. Hmm," He pondered aloud at the end, adding, "Carmelita Cooper. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" _

_"Don't get any funny ideas, Ringtail." He watched as she turned her head back towards the window. Their gaze met in the glassy reflection and she offered a demure smile. "Stop staring before I arrest you." _

_"I love you," Sly replied. _

_"Stop it," she mumbled. It didn't happen like in the dream; she wasn't completely undone by his words. No, she was smiling and her heart was beating a little faster but it didn't hit her as hard as it did in the dream. Then again, he was saying it plainly to her, here and now. Had he waited to tell her when they were dancing or after sliding his paws on either side of her face, looking into her eyes… who was she kidding? She knew he wasn't a Casanova; he was a thief with romanticized allure at best. She tried to play the whole thing off and simply said, "Yeah, yeah. I love you too, ya brat. You'd better not make me regret saying that; if you steal again, I'll lock you up in solitary confinement until you're too old and feeble to pick up that cane." _

_"Locked up in Carmelita's basement," Sly mused thoughtfully. "Now why does that sound like fun? Well, it could be fun. You'd have to catch me first." _

_"I already have," she replied plainly. "You're right here. All it would take is for me to shift my weight the right way and bam! You'd be handcuffed to my arm. I'd take you to the deepest darkest prison on the planet and burry you in a cage beneath the dungeon. And you'd deserve it for toying with my affections. So, the next time you say you love me, you'd better mean it." _

_"I meant it the first time we dated," Sly replied. "I left you but only out of my love for you and my desire for your safety. Yeah, I know, it's complicated. I'm a guy so forgive me for being unable to explain the way I feel properly but if you'll give me a second chance… I want to beat these guys as a team, Carmelita." _

_"We'll do it as a team," she told him with a reaffirming nod. "But as far as the dating thing…" She looked back at him, gazing into his rather beautiful brown eyes. She did love him. She hated the fact that he already knew it, though. "We'll discuss it later, okay? And you'd better leave that damn heirloom in the vault. I'm a traditional girl; rings work better than pendants." _

_"You'll be the first fox in the Cooper Line," Sly told her. "Our kids are gonna look so…" He quickly found his muzzle shut by her paw which came to rest upon the top of his nose, pinning his jaw to the armrest. _

_"Don't push it." She gave him a sharp look then returned her gaze to the window. "You're probably right about the resting thing; I'm going to try and take a nap, okay?" Her eyes shut once more, closing out the rainy streaks that were now trickling horizontally across the window. A slight grin touched her feminine visage, leaving Sly to wonder what she was envisioning. _

_"Hey, by the way," Sly said, somewhat muffled by the paw on his snout. _

_Carmelita's simply replied with, "Hush." Concise and right to the point. As far as she was concerned, he always got the last word. Not this time; dating was a woman's territory. She owned the rights and if they were to ever date, he would be **her** property, not the other way around. Men just didn't get it; she had him pledging his love to her and that was exactly what she wanted, for some reason. Maybe it was because she was hurt when he left and she wanted him to beg her back. Maybe it was because she was obsessed with him and wanted some sort of indication that he felt the same way for her. Either way, she felt… victorious. _

Carmelita Fox craned her head, watching the men in the trailer across the aisle. They'd not discovered anything noteworthy just yet. It was starting to grate on her nerves. She really wanted to wrap up this competition and show Sly who the boss really was. She was a fourth generation cop and she was very good at what she did.

Inspector Fox listened to the native language of her home country; the Hispanic language was something she'd not heard or spoken in quite a while. Sly was a little shaky with his Spanish but it wasn't too horrible. She decided that she would have to work on him for a while. Right now, however, she just wanted those thugs to find the stupid artifact so she could take it and leave. Being the first to capture it was pivotal; she and Sly had a competition going and she didn't want to lose.

Thoughts of 'the competition' made her smile, sitting there in the dark with the light on part of her face. Carmelita watched the cargo container intently but her mind still wondered back to how she and Sly turned this mission into a friendly face off, after waking up this morning on the Leer Jet.

_They made their way to the Leer Jet's small exit then headed down to the tarmac. "Now we just need a ride," Sly said. "I'm not quite twenty-five yet, so don't look at me for renting a car." _

_"No problem," said a confident Carmelita in reply. "I've got connections all over Central and South America. These are my childhood stomping grounds, after all." She waved a paw and headed across the concrete towards the edge of the airport. "I know someone, not far from here, that will lend us the equipment we're going to need." _

_"Really?" Sly asked, coming up besides her. "It makes me wonder what you were thinking when you took your job in Paris." He gave her a grin, reaching for her paw. She quickly pulled hers away from his, grinning playfully. Sly kept his palm extended to her but she shrugged it off with a sort of wink. _

_"If I didn't, I'd have never met you," she said to the raccoon. _

_Sly returned with a smile, adding, "That's rather sweet, Carmelita." _

_"No," said the vixen with a light chuckle, "I'm not attempting to be sweet; I am just glad that fate has offered me the chance to nab Sly Cooper and France provided me with an opportunity that the America's could never offer. If I never met you, how could I ever jail you?" There was that and… the fact that Interpol's main office was located in Lyon. _

_The raccoon folded his paws behind his back, grinning in reply to her. "And then you suddenly realized that the streets of Paris are **my** childhood turf," Sly mused thoughtfully. "And the next thing you know, we're playing cops and robbers while head-over-heels in love." _

_Carmelita cocked a brow at him, playing the difficult one yet again. "Who said anything about being in love?" She reached over and gave him a solid slap on his shoulder and told him, "Keep dreaming, Sly. It's only a matter of time before I catch you. You can't run from me forever. Let's get this job done so we can get back to our personal 'street waltz' that we're always so fond of, hmm?" She wanted to take a quick stab at his ego but for some reason, the look on his face told her that it didn't work. _

_Sly's grin melted into a soft, yet equally playful smile. "Why, Carmelita, is that a challenge or are you asking me on a date in the streets of Paris?" _

_"A date with you?" She shot back with a smirk, "Ha! That'll be the day in your dreams." _

_Sly just shook his head with a light chuckle. "I can see you've slept well during the flight. You're back to your old, feisty, quick witted ways. I'm still going to put a ring on your finger when I have absolute proof that this entire situation is settled. There's nothing you can do to stop me, Inspector Fox." _

_"Good luck with **that**, Ringtail," Carmelita replied with an airy tone and a roll of her eyes. She then changed the subject, telling him, "We need intelligence on what Sire is doing here and I intent to find out what's up before it's too late. Then we can stop him and call it a night. I hope the rest of your gang is successful in stopping Clockwerk." _

_"When I know that Clockwerk isn't coming back," Sly trailed off for a moment, coming closer to her. He then told her, "I want to resume where we left off in our relationship last year. I'll only use my thievery skills to our advantage in the course of what is considered legal." _

_"Ha! That'll be the day," the vixen snapped in rebuttal. "Yeah, I slept well on that plane; no damn Nightmares this time. I'll take that as a good sign. What do you say that we turn this into a competition?" _

_"If you win," Sly thought aloud, "I'll join Interpol and we resume where we left off as Constable Cooper and Inspector Fox. Also, I'll cook you breakfast for a week." _

_"You? Cook for me?" She tilted her head then shrugged slightly. "I've never tried your cooking; I thought you were the bachelor type who can't hardly rub two sticks together let alone cook food… At any rate," she paused, giving his offer some thought. Finally, she told him, "You're on. If **you** win, I'll say 'yes' to your offer of a relationship but only if you give up thievery. Only in the line of police work or if it's necessary to **save the world**; if you steal anything and it doesn't add up to those conditions, the relationship is over and you're going to jail." _

_"You drive **such** a hard bargain, Miss Fox," Sly said to her. "I still think Carmelita Cooper has a nice ring to it. Don't you?" _

_"I still think you're pushing your luck," snapped the vixen in reply. She then looked away, trying to hide a grin from him. "C'mon, my contact isn't much further." She paused in front of a chain-link fence then scaled and hopped over it. Sly followed suite and the two continued for the nearby highway, leaving the airport behind. _

Carmelita emerged from her reverie, hearing one of the workers shout, "Dios Mio! Aqui! Aqui, amigo!" She leaned into the small space, watching them with a grin. She was about to win the competition and make Sly her partner again. Whether or not they dated was besides the point; she wanted to make Sly her subordinate as a cop. It would be the ultimate irony to his gang and he was the only partner she ever really trusted in the field, oddly enough.

"Yo soy…" Suddenly the man's words were cut short. Carmelita blinked in surprise, hearing a set of strange noises. Several of the cargo containers were thrown clear off the top, crashing upon the deck. The surface of the deck crumbled beneath their weight but they only sank by a deck or two, going into the hold. She stood up in the container she'd been hiding in, still confused.

The Hispanic workers suddenly bolted out of the metal trailer, scattering in all different directions. A deep flapping sound caused her ears to flicker and her heart to pause. Her eyes widened, realizing just what that noise really was. A shadow flashed across the wet deck, reflecting a gray object in the air. Her stomach dropped and her paws tightened into fists.

The only thing she could think of was that Bentley, Penelope and Murray must have failed. For Cooper's sake, she hopped that they were all alive, at this point. An ion canon roared to life, discharging an energy round into the deck aisle, at the center of the row between containers. The explosion threw Carmelita back further into the trailer she was hiding in. She landed on her tail on top of a box of dried Ramen noodles.

"Please, don't let that be Clockwerk," she groused, getting back to her feet. "He's not supposed to be finished yet. Those dreams weren't real; he can't be here, it's not fair!" she argued to the dark container of dried food. "I'm going to kick this bird's tail feathers clear back to Russia; oh man, am I pissed off."

"Vamanos! Rapido!" shouted one of the pirates to his friends. They were quick to disperse, running in every which direction. Carmelita kicked the door to her own trailer open and sprinted across the row towards the container with the artifact storage. Halfway out into the large cargo aisle, another massive energy round struck the ground before her. Her body was thrown from the concussive force and she landed on her back, ten feet away.

The Inspector's eyes opened and she was looking straight up in the air at Clockwerk. Her sharp amber gaze was quick to notice that Sly Cooper hung from his cane, latched on to one of Clockwerk's talons. Her eyes widened and she sat up. Clockwerk performed a barrel roll maneuver, inverting quickly in a full rollover. Sly's cane became dislodged from the massive metal bird and he began to fall.

Carmelita sat up, her heart nearly stopping in her throat. He continued to fall, mirrored in her eyes. A tiny whisper floated over her lips, "No… No, please." Suddenly, his parasail popped open and her heart leapt for joy. "That's it; hang in there, Ringtail. Hang in there," she murmured softly, pulling the duffle bag from her shoulder. She'd obtained it from the friend who worked as a Chief at the nearby Police precinct.

She knelt to one knee and opened the bag. Inside was an assortment of veritable death machines; guns in every flavor. Nestled between the sub machine gun and different caliber handguns there was a compact rocket launcher. She eased out the bulky rectangular device and eased it onto her shoulder. Carmelita gazed into the small glass eyepiece and lined up her shot then flipped off the safety.

"Eat this, you oversized Thanksgiving Turkey," she muttered under her breath, squeezing the trigger. The power of the compact rocket launcher was startling. The missile erupted from the front and forced her from one knee down to her tail.

The powerful rocket screamed upwards, passing Sly and continuing up to Clockwerk for a _direct hit_. The explosion launched Clockwerk's metallic body clear across the sky. His wings folded and he soared over her head, crash landed into the aft-end stack of metal cargo containers, snapping some of the high tension security lines. Silence followed only to be broken by Carmelita who simply thrust a fist up into the air then jerked it back down, hissing, "Yes!"

Sly landed on the deck, releasing the parasail. He looked over at Carmelita then glanced back at the trailer with boxes of artifacts spewed about. He lifted the first box into his paws, opened it then picked out a stone coin twice the size of his paw. He stared at it for a moment, leaving Carmelita to watch him, almost dumbstruck. He then turned to her, smiled, held up the piece and announced, "I won."

Before she could offer rebuttal, an explosively loud noise was heard, coming from the back end of the ship. Clockwerk emerged, furious. He spread his wings, throwing massive metal containers, fifty-three feet in length, into the air in all directions. Some went flying off the back of the ship while others landed on the dock. Other containers landed in various places, all about the ship. Clockwerk lifted his wings then pushed him down, with one powerful swoop, forcing his body back into the air.

"Dammit!" Carmelita said, pounding the ground with her fist. "He doesn't even look _scratched_!" She glanced back at the missile launcher; the ammunition was depleted. It was her ace in the hole and now it was worthless. "He's going to kill us both if we don't move!" she suddenly announced, standing up.

"Agreed, let's split!" Sly replied, turning to Carmelita. "Like my clothes?" he asked casually, reaching a free paw to her.

She reached for his wrist and he pulled her up. She snatched the half-opened duffle bag of remaining guns and slung it over her shoulder. "Well, well, aren't _you_ a fashion statement. Let's go!" she added at the end. The two took off, running down the aisle, towards the bow of the cargo ship.

Sly glanced over his shoulder then skidded to a halt causing Carmelita to stop as well. "What are you stopping for, let's go!" shouted the vulpine Inspector.

"No, wait, look!" Sly replied, pointing back to the sky. She lifted her gaze, following his finger, only to balk in shock. Clockwerk was nowhere to be seen. "He's gone," Sly said, adding, "He's not even concerned with us; what's _that_ all about? I'm almost insulted; he spent his entire life chasing after Coopers and this time, I jump at him and he practically ignores me. What gives? Are Coopers not good enough for the new Clockwerk?"

"Oh shut up, Ringtail. Be thankful he didn't rip you apart," Carmelita returned, placing her paws on her hips. "If he's in Panama and it's not to kill _you_ then he must be here for Sire or Steven."

Sly frowned thoughtfully. "Let's head for the next ship and get the next piece but first… let's hide this one and contact Bentley. I wanna make sure my gang is all right."

"Hiding this piece," Carmelita began, adding, "Is a _damn good_ idea. Let's scram before all hell breaks loose and the cops arrive." She suddenly paused, blinking. "Geeze; never thought I'd hear myself say _that_."

"I'm rubbing off on you," Sly told her with a grin. He took her wrist and gave a tug at her shirt, saying, "C'mon, Carmelita. Let's go, beautiful."

* * *

**Bentley sat up in the rubble, a light chill against his skin**. The tortoise reached to capture the glasses that were staring him in the face, less than an inch from his nose. Pebbles and dusty debris swelled around him as he stirred. "Penelope?" he called out.

"Ngh," someone grunted. The feminine voice was all too familiar and Bentley smiled slightly, just hearing that she was alive. She then said, "Dang, there's a crack in my left lens," referring to her own glasses. "When we want to bring the house down, we _really_ bring the house down."

"Yeah," Bentley agreed, sitting the rest of the way up. "Where's Murray?"

"He's next to me," Penelope replied. "He's okay; I've got to wake him up. Did we destroy Clockwerk?"

"I don't know," Bentley said. "I don't see parts for him in the rubble but there is a possibility that he's completely buried."

"Hold on," Penelope said, wiggling out from under the debris. She pulled herself up onto the surface and shook hard, clearing her fur of the dust. Snow was still falling but it was much lighter, now. She pulled her glasses from her muzzle, examined them for a moment then blew off the extra dust, replacing them on the bridge of her nose. She then approached Bentley and sat down next to him with a frown. "Call it woman's intuition but I don't think we got Clockwerk. How long were we out? My watch is broken."

Bentley replaced his own glasses upon his beak-shaped nose then looked at his own left wrist. "We've got time. Not to worry. Sly's several hours behind us, in Panama. I'd be willing to say it's about ten thirty in the morning, over there. My communicator is broken; let's wake Murray and get the heck out of here. We'll need transportation and I want to verify that Clockwerk has been destroyed. At the very least, I want to know that Steven the Skunk is gone." He stood up, still using the bionic legs. After a quick moment to dust himself off and fix his bowtie, the turtle stretched and approached his mousey girlfriend. "I hope the big guy isn't hurt."

"I looked him over," Penelope said. "Murray looks perfectly fine. He's curled up under the rubble to stay warm. It's pretty darn cold out here. Let's hurry and find a warm place where we can contact Sly and Carmelita."

"Right," Bentley replied with a firm nod. "But let's first wake Murray then check and make sure Clockwerk is defeated."

* * *

**Sly Cooper was carefully perched atop the **large metal antenna above the second cargo ship. Sixteen stories in the air from the water, Sly had his heels together with his toes pointed outwards, resting comfortably on the spire tip. His eyes were on both the sky and the ship's deck, watching the patrol patterns of the enemy. This information would allow for Carmelita to board the ship without being spotted.

Here he was, helping her look for these strange artifacts that she claimed had something to do with Clockwerk. He knew she'd gotten her information from the fox who worked at the police department but he wondered how she knew him. They didn't look related after all. His mind wondered back to the brief moment after she'd retrieved the borrowed gear and the keys to a police cruiser…

_Finally, Carmelita reemerged from the office with a duffle bag and a set of car keys in her paw. She made eye contact with Sly then hooked her thumb off to the side and jerked her head. He was quick to follow, going around the counter, through an aisle of cluttered desks and off to the left. He followed her to a side door which fed into a large fenced lot full of police cruisers. _

_"What's in the bag, babe?" Sly offered a smile. She didn't reply to him; instead, she unlocked one of the police cars and slid into the driver's seat. Sly took 'shotgun', slipping into the front seat and pulling the door shut. He went for his seatbelt, asking, "Well?" _

_"Hush for a moment," she replied, starting the vehicle. Once she drove it up to the gate, the weight sensor under the pavement caused a green light to flash adjacent to the fencing. A rollback gate began to retract until she had enough space to squeeze through. Carmelita punched the accelerator before the gate was all the way open, heading out onto the main road. She flipped on the emergency lights and headed for the Canal. In a casual tone, the vixen told him, "We're pretty far behind schedule. Sire has taken over three ships at the Canal; he's holding the channel locks hostage for the time being and now he's probably got several pieces; those dang artifacts he's all hopped up about."  
_

_"Okay, wait," Sly asked, holding his paws up in an almost defensive manner. "I missed something. What artifacts is he going after again? Something to do with Clockwerk right?" _

_Carmelita offered a slight nod, continuing with the explanation. "Karla was supposed to bare a son once she possessed that diamond your family keeps in the safe. An immortal master thief would be the perfect pawn to retrieve all the artifacts he needs; my doppelganger discovered his plot; they want to resurrect some sort of spirit and put it into Clockwerk's new body. Once that's done, he'll usher in some sort of Armageddon; he's one of those damn idiots who pray for the end of the world. It's stupid, if you ask me." _

_"That's all this **whole thing** is about?" Sly snorted in disgust. "They terrorized my family over a diamond and they wanted it so that they could have an immortal child who wouldn't question orders… just so they could use him to obtain impossible fragments of something that would cause the end of the world? Do I have that straight?" _

_"On the nose minus a few minor details," Carmelita replied. "All of this craziness for a stupid 'End of the World whim' and believe me," she grumbled, "I'm annoyed. Those pieces were placed in the far corners of the world in fragments for a **very** good reason. They need to be destroyed. I guess the ancient times didn't have a good way of destroying them. The immortal Master Thief child was supposed to become a steward for the new Clockwerk; a knight to do his master's bidding. What kinda stupid crap is that?" _

_Sly glanced out the window then mumbled, "They should have scattered each piece to a different Volcano." _

_"I agree," said Carmelita. "We've either got to steal the pieces off the ship, behind Sire's back, or we have to take him out." _

_"I say we steal the pieces **then** take him out," replied Cooper. "Then we destroy them one at a time." _

_"No disagreement here," Carmelita told him with a slight smile. "That duffle bag is full of weapons. I should be able to use a sniper rifle on Sire without being in proximity of his aura. We'll have to eyeball the situation as we go." _

_Sly's expression changed to a grin of amusement. "You love to dance, you like to use large guns and you're challenging me to who can defeat the bad guys first… You've always been my kinda woman, Carmelita. Maybe that's why I'm so drawn to you." _

_"You know, Cooper," the vixen said, keeping her eyes on the road and her demeanor rigid. "You sure feel comfortable with saying stuff like that to me as of late. Is there something I said or did to make you think that I would melt in your paw to your charm?" _

_"Oh, you know," Sly replied, rolling his left paw about before adding, "I assume you simply feel the same way that I do but you're inability to trust keeps you from opening up around me. Provided that I've toyed with your affections and even hurt your heart in the past; I think I can still make it up to you." _

_"When we were talking about engagements earlier," Carmelita tried not to fidget by gripping the steering wheel tightly. _

_"Yes?" Sly turned his head to her; cars and objects were a blur outside as the vixen raced the marked cruiser down the road with the siren blaring and the lights shining. _

_"…I was just joking and such," she told him. "You're a thief and I'm a cop, Cooper. You won't change and neither will I. Right? We're just in this mutually because I have nothing on you at the moment and I'm trying to help a kidnapped victim who, record aside, was a victim in all of this." _

_"Carmelita," Sly said. She slammed on the brakes and the car screeched to a halt, one hundred yards from the first ship. She turned her head to him and he reached his paws for her cheeks, cupping her face. "It's like this," he said. "I love you. I'm in love with you and I'll always love you. I know I've broken your trust, but you've not broken mine and I feel there is still some hope for us. I'll do my best to prove it, but for now… this will have to be good enough." He then leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. _

_She tensed as soon as their lips met, yet again. She drew in a sharp breath of air through her nose, keeping her lips pursed and pressed to his. Once the kiss ended, she tried to regain her composure and offer the first witty retort before he could get any gloating done. "You just find me irresistible, don't you? Can't keep your paws or your lips off of me, can you? Dirty thieving lecher," she said, snapping the last word at the end. She then looked away. _

_Sly simply gawked at her for a moment. He could see that she was secretly grinning in the reflection of the windshield which caused him to relax, leaning back in the seat of the vehicle. His sangfroid demeanor returned and seeing her secret smile helped to inflate his ego just a bit. _

_"What is it about me?" Sly asked. "My swagger? My ability to get things done? Is it a professional respect of knowing the ole' nemesis? What is it about me that causes you to close your eyes when I kiss you? Is it a satisfaction in knowing that I want you when I pretend to give you the slip? Is it something deeper like an obsession? Or is this all about just wanting to be wanted by someone who is of your caliber?" _

_Carmelita jerked her head back at him, her jaw parted just slightly as if she was offended. "You low down… dirty… **scroungy**… mangy… **criminal**!" _

_"Why yes," Sly said with a grin. "Yes I am. And I'm going to win this competition while I'm at it," he added, opening the car door. She opened hers as well then paused, reaching her other paw for his shirt. Sly paused, looking back to her with inquiry in his eyes. "Yeah, tuits?" _

_Carmelita thrust her paws out, snagging him by the collar, drawing his face to hers; her eyes blazing at him. "Listen to me," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "Not only am I going to show you how a **real** cop gets things done but as far as I'm concerned… regarding our past relationship? You know what?" She smirked, still holding his collar in her fists. "I thought you left because you didn't love me but, in reality, I see far more clearly now. It is all clear, Sly: I've got you **whipped**." She then pulled his face to hers, kissing him with intense hungry fervor. _

_After a moment, she gave the surprised thief a shove and quickly exited the police car. "Also, if I win, you get to spend at least one night in jail. Just so I can gloat at you." She then shouldered her duffle bag and headed for the gangplank. While Sly watched her, she grabbed either end of the duffle in her paws and used it to smack the guard at the bottom of the plank. He teetered backwards and fell into the water. _

_Carmelita then ascended the plank. Once she was at the top, she retracted it then gave it a kick so that it went straight off the side of the ship and into the water. She looked down at the cruiser from up on the side of the ship, gave Sly a flirty wink and a smirk then disappeared from his view._

His daydream was interrupted by the sudden movement of two guards racing across the deck. He scanned his eyes forward to make sure they hadn't spotted Carmelita. She wanted him to take a sniper rifle up to this point but he refused to go putting bullets through people's head. She had argued that she was the pilot and he was the gunner but Sly didn't really feel comfortable putting high caliber rounds into people's skulls. At any rate, he now wished that he'd listened to her advice so he could dispatch the two men.

They continued down the planks to the far end of the ship with their weapons drawn. Sly continued to squint, trying to ascertain the validity of their target. Sly watched as they peered over the front of the ship. He drew his communication binoculars and zoomed in on the duet. Suddenly, coming up over the lip of the ship was none other than _Clockwerk_.

"Damn! Him again!" Sly hissed, opening a channel to Carmelita. "Big Bird is back! Where are you?"

"I'm already on the ship," came her casual reply. "And… I've just located the second artifact. This one was easy; it was even _labeled_, this time. Sire is going to be pissed!"

"You're already on the ship?" Sly exclaimed. His ears twitched in the moderate gale, so high up in the sky.

"Honey," Carmelita touted in a sassy voice over the communicator, "I'm not only already on the ship, I've got the goods and I'm heading for the exit. What the heck has got you so worked up?"

Sly shook his head with a sigh; obviously her attention was being diverted by something other than him. "Like I said, Clocky is back. He's engaging the guards for us. Let's split, babe."

"Babe, huh?" came her crackling voice over the earpiece.

"Yeah," Sly quickly replied. "Remember, I won the competition, so you've got to concede to be my 'babe'. Let's get this show on the road; we've got one ship left and Clockwerk two-point-oh is making me a little nervous." Sly watched as the monstrosity snatched one of the guards off the deck and used the massive talons to shred the man into kibble. Cooper grimaced in reply, shaking his head slowly. "Poor bastard," he mused under his breath.

A feminine voice came over the communicator again. "I'm out, heading for the third ship," said the vixen. Sly blinked, looking around for her.

Sly scanned the immediate area. "Either I need glasses or you're going to make a better Carmelita Cooper than I thought. Where in the heck are you?"

Her reply was concise, now filled with a bit of distortion from the rush of the wind in her face on the other end of the line. "Hang-glider; I'm fifty yards from the third ship." Sly's eyes lifted, quickly spotting a tiny little triangle in the distance.

"How in the world did you get out there so quickly?" he cried in amusement.

Carmelita snickered over the radio. "You must have been paying attention to those guards and Clockwerk. I used the distraction to escape from the side. I was going to glide to the dock but a good gust of wind gave me vertical lift. Now I'm going straight to the third ship. See ya there, Ringtail! Oh and by the way," she added with a snarky chuckle, "You said it yourself; no dating until you were positive that Clockwerk was out of commission. So therefore, I'm nobody's 'babe', _babe_." She then closed the communicator.

Sly watched as the small triangular glider disappeared behind the conning tower of the _third_ ship. It was located farther up the canal in a different locking bay. Clockwerk was beginning to attack the second ship, tearing into the cargo containers that lined the deck, similar to the first ship. "Dang," Sly said, watching the carnage. "That's my cue to bust a move," he whispered, readying his secondary parasail. The raccoon leapt from the tall antenna and popped the chute, gliding down towards the dock on the starboard side. He'd have to run to make it up to the third ship in time.

* * *

**Bentley shook his head with a sigh. Murray and Penelope** stood adjacent to the bionic-legged turtle. The tortoise balled his hands up into fists. "Clockwerk has escaped, I can't reach Sly or Carmelita and they're half a world away. We've got to find a way to get to Panama. Let's hurry!"

There seemed to be only one small problem with Bentley's plan. They were in an interrogation room for the Czech National Guard. Shortly after waking up, they soon realized that the entire building was locked down and secured by the Czechoslovakian National Guard. They were rescued as survivors but proving that they were bystanders on the _outside_ of the building would be impossible, especially since they were located at the heart of the building.

It was a miracle that they'd all survived but now they were being detained for questioning in regards to the destruction of the People's Republic Bank. Bentley began pacing the cell, his arms folded. "We've _got_ to hurry," he muttered, shaking his head slowly. "What in the heck are we doing to do to help Sly and Carmelita? What if she arrests him when everything is all over with? What if the escaped Clockwerk kills them both like in Inspector Fox's nightmares?" To his questions, Penelope and Murray remained silent.

The tortoise grew silent, seeing someone approach. A guard opened the cell and stepped aside. From off to the left, a man in a suit stepped in, then the guard shut the gate behind the man and left. The gentleman, a properly dressed raccoon, adjusted his tie then nodded to the group. In a soft French dialect, he greeted them and said, "I'm detective Maris Johnson. I represent Law the way Oxford intended; I'll get right to the point, ma'am… gentlemen. I have dead bodies all over that rubble. It seems that most of them died from bullets or blowtorches. Some have bullet holes; others have cauterized gashes that cut right through their chests or other parts of their bodies. What the hell happened here?"

"Let me ask you this," Bentley began. "You're a raccoon; ever heard of Sly Cooper?"

The raccoon nodded slightly. "I have a report from Interpol that he was abducted and surfaced somewhere in the vicinity of this bank. Do you have a tie-in for that puzzle piece? The more clues you provide, the easier it is for me to do my job."

"Mister Johnson," Bentley started only to be interrupted by the man lifting his paw.

"Please, just Maris will do," the man said.

"Fine," Bentley grumbled, looking almost annoyed. "_Detective Maris_, I'm Bentley. This is Penelope and Murray. We're here to search for Sly Cooper because we're friends of his. When we tried to help him, we were attacked. The people who were attacking us then got attacked by another group of people. We ducked out of the line of fire and let them attack one another. Before you knew it, the whole bank was brought crashing down and we were lucky to survive."

"Listen to me," said Maris Johnson. "I've got a private property castle just outside of town and now a bank with a massive insurance claim. I am under stress from the government and from the building's superintendent to get to the bottom of this so that they can file their claims. I've got dead bodies in both buildings. The castle has a woman frozen in ice and the only survivor is a bubblegum chewing secretary who knows _nothing_. Now, I've got a bank full of dead bodies who died _before_ the building collapsed. I have three survivors who _also_ know nothing! I'm getting upset."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Bentley replied softly, staying relaxed in the face of the cop. "The people who attacked the bank were armed with energy weapons and high power guns that could have done the damage you described. I think they were trying to capitalize on the fact that someone had captured Sly Cooper. I would imagine that a renowned thief _does_ have enemies in this country."

"What do you know of a small aircraft?" Maris asked, flicking his ringed tail in annoyance. "I have reports of a helicopter leaving the rooftop of this building, then some sort of metal airplane lifting out of the rubble from this building, shortly after the collapse. I have eye witnesses and I need more details."

This time, Penelope spoke up, saying, "A metal-fitted owl named Clockwerk left this bank."

"Clockwerk?" The detective snorted. "He's in pieces, which were rumored to be destroyed in the streets of France by someone working for Interpol. Now, what's _really_ going on here?"

Bentley and Murray each slapped themselves in the forehead while Penelope simply sighed in frustration. "Are we under arrest, Detective Maris?" she asked.

Maris placed his paws on his hips. "You're being detained for up to twenty-four hours until I'm satisfied with your answers." He then looked from one to the other, his gaze panning from left to right and stopping on Penelope. "I have a lot of questions that are going unanswered. I have a lot of crap to clean up. I've got a lot of problems. Either you three are going to make my life easier by telling me what you know… or we're going to have problems. I'm tired, gentlemen," Johnson told them. "I spent seventy hours last week exhausting a case concerning a rumor that the Spear of Longinus was stolen only to find out that it never left the display case except for a short session with a cleaning and restoration company. Now I find two buildings leveled and I _really_ don't want to work another seventy hour week, exhausting myself in regards to an unsolvable case."

"Listen bud," Murray bellowed, "It's like this. Sly got kidnapped so we came to rescue him. These goons at the castle employed goons at the bank to rebuild Clockwerk. Then a group of goons backstabbed the other group of goons in a power struggle over Sly and Clockwerk. Eventually their fighting brought down the castle then the bank. Okay?"

"So," Maris said, shaking his head. "Let me get this straight, all right? Two groups, vying for power, caused this with infighting and all the while, Clockwerk was being rebuilt and assassins were trying to kill Sly Cooper. In the end, two buildings were leveled and between the two, I've got four survivors who know squat?"

"You've got it!" Murray replied boisterously. "But we know more than squat! I just told you everything that happened, after all!"

Maris face-palmed, burying his muzzle into the center of his paw with a groan. "Get cozy, you three. This is your home for the next twenty-four hours."

* * *

**Sire narrowed his eyes, clinching his fists** out of frustration. His lips pursed, tightening as the rage boiled within his gut. The effeminate lion lifted a nearby mongoose by his throat, looking the man over for a moment. "So help me, if we cannot stop Clockwerk, everything is ruined. I want those artifacts and I want that metal moron deep six'ed!"

"Habla Espanol, no habla English!" The camouflage-dressed thug, from a group out of the Darien Gap hired by Sire, was released, quickly yet nervously returning to his position as a bodyguard. Sire began stalking the bridge of the third ship, his paws behind his back. "Someone will pay for this atrocity. I will not tolerate failure," he mumbled to himself. "Curse Steven's clone; that moron must have knowingly programmed Clockwerk to have freewill. I told that half-wit to make Clockwerk submissive to my will and to do as he was told. Now that stupid machine will ruin _everything_!"

Suddenly part of the windshield to the bridge was smashed. Carmelita Fox came in through the glass, feet first. A hang-glider became trapped in the window frame, ejecting her to the floor. She dropped into a loose roll, coming quickly to her feet with a gun in one paw. In her other, she held a small cylinder and a rectangular box, mashed together.

"You!" Sire shouted, turning to face her. Just as he was beginning to enable his powerful aura, Carmelita dropped the metal canister and rectangular box on the floor, purposefully keeping her eyes on it. The flash grenade exploded, blinding and deafening everyone in the room. Her plan was successful; she was blinded and deafened of his aura and could no longer be affected by it. She then raised her gun in the direction he was last seen then opened fire multiple times.

Equilibrium and balance were obtained mostly from a person's hearing. The blindness and deafness made it difficult to shoot straight but she continued to spray the pistol's ammunition until the magazine was empty. She then sprinted forward, only now seeing a blurry jumble of gray and a hazy brightness coming from the nearby windows.

She bolted forward, shouldering Sire to the ground. She nearly tripped over him but continued on, ambling towards the door. Her shoulder connected with the door to the balcony which opened with ease. She spilled out onto the corrugated metal ledge then continued onwards, crawling away from the bridge. She holstered the gun then used her paws to feel around until she located the rungs of a ladder.

Quickly wrapping her paws around the ladder, she began to descend it, still clinching her eyes shut every few seconds to try and expedite the effects of the flashbang grenade. Once her sight began to return to some semblance of normalcy, she glanced down at her shoulder and saw blood.

A smirk tugged at her lips, knowing that she must have lit Sire up with the handgun before shouldering him to the floor. Her paws loosened on the ladder and her feet moved to the sides. Carmelita's tail lifted and her weapon's vest began to lighten as wind filled the fabric. For a brief second, with a lack of hearing and blurry vision, she felt as though she were floating.

Her body began to slide vertically along the ladder until her feet hit the deck. Her knees bent, absorbing the impact into her toned legs. She dropped to her paws, kneeling directly in front of the ladder with a grunt. She took a moment to collect herself then bolted off, down the deck.

She stumbled about in an attempt to blink away the remaining blindness in her eyes but her hearing was only just beginning to return finally. Once her senses cleared up, her stumble-footed limp evolved into a sharp sprint, her tail floating in the wind behind herself. Her paws pumped up and down and her legs churned hard in a full run towards the cargo section.

The small rectangular box that she'd dropped on the bridge with the flash grenade detonated. The bridge exploded in a grand display of fire and yet she never looked back. The vixen continued to run as hard as she could. As soon as the explosion rang in her ears, she lifted her paws above her head, still running as fast as she could manage. Her eyes lowered for a split second, distracted by a dark shadow that came out of nowhere directly in front of her.

In an act of evasion, Carmelita dodged to the left. A section of the conning tower smashed into the ground just to the right of her. She never slowed her pace, racing for the cargo section at the aft end of the ship. Unlike the last two vessels, this ship didn't carry large metal containers in stacks. Instead, its cargo was accessible by means of an elevator at the back end of the ship that led down to the hold, below deck.

Another section of the bridge came slamming down into the deck, coming so close that it knocked her to the ground. From her momentum, she continued in a roll across the deck. Carmelita Fox came to a stop on her side, sat up quickly and got back to her feet, starting to run again. She had bruises on her arms and hip but because of her adrenaline, she felt completely unscathed.

Fiery metal debris rained from the sky. The shrapnel began to float down from above, much lighter than the heavy sections that had already come down from the explosion. She continued to run, lifting her arms back up over her head. She could see the maintenance elevator up ahead and charged for it. Tiny metal pieces rained down, clattering noisily over the deck.

Once she arrived at the platform, she mashed in the activation button and the large square section began to lower into the aft end of the ship. She ducked in the corner, staying low until the elevator made it to the bottom of the hold. Her eyes dilated, adjusting to the slightly dimmer artificial lighting. Carmelita removed her arms from her head and glanced down at herself with a frown. The fur of her left arm was matted down with her blood.

The Inspector glanced around for a moment then spied a sign on the wall. The infirmary was up ahead; she made her way towards it then, upon her approach, kicked the door in, drawing her unloaded weapon. Luckily, the infirmary was empty and she stepped in, re-holstering the weapon. Miss Fox put the duffle bag on an empty table and took out several magazines. Stuffing a few into her jacket, she replaced one of them into her weapon, without removing it from the holster, leaving the spent metal clip on the floor.

Next, Carmelita re-shouldered her bag and went for the first aid kit on a countertop. She took out the gauze, first aid spray, hydrogen peroxide and a roll of bandaging tape. The young woman carried the hydrogen peroxide over to a nearby sink and popped the top with her thumb. She then poured it over the cut on her arm, watching the white foam which quickly appeared. Giving it a few minutes to do its job, Carmelita kept her arm over the sink.

She then took a piece of gauze and dabbed the area dry, before spraying the first-aid solution onto the cut. It burned somewhat but she ignored the pain, beginning to wrap her arm in the bandage. She bit the bandage near the roll, once she had the desired length, then tucked and tied it down. It was obviously better that the shrapnel cut her arm rather than her head; she felt vindicated for having held her arms up above herself while running, earlier.

Once she had cleaned up her wound, Carmelita removed her weapon, holding it in her right paw, fetching her shock pistol from the duffle bag, drawing it into her left paw. "I hope that aristocratic thug is dead," she murmured, knowing that he probably wasn't. She left the infirmary only to be startled when the ship suddenly rocked to the side, teetering hard to port.

* * *

**Sire struggled to sit up** on the bridge. Entire sections of his left hip and abdomen were burned away with part of his right leg missing. It would take some time to regenerate his body and the pain was a dizzying cacophony of intense sensations that caused his very spine to tingle. The blast had eviscerated Sire, leaving him an ugly, scarred freak. It would heal eventually but for now, his incredible disfigurements would change the dynamics of his power.

Instead of radiating with incredible beauty and bringing legions of people to their knees, his aura would inspire the most intense hideousness that would cause a person to shrink in fear. His grotesque appearance caused the once effeminate lion to weep softly; it would take several days to return to his state of perfection. Living as a freak, even for a few days, would truly be hell for him. He knew it already.

Suddenly, the ship jerked to the side, tilting hard to port. The carcass of the mongoose guard slid across the deck, leaving a crimson trail in his wake. He crumpled against the far portside bulkhead, lying there in silence. Sire also began to slide a few feet across the deck. He pulled himself up by the steering wheel, balancing himself on his left leg as best as possible. With part of his left hip missing and nearly all of his right leg gone, he had trouble holding himself up.

His eyes peered over the controls and those soft, beautiful hues widened, nearly face to face with Clockwerk. "You miserable bastard, how dare you attack me?" Sire shouted through the empty window frame. Nearly all of the glass had disintegrated from the blast. The floor and deck down in front of the conning tower was sprinkled with a light dusting of glass particles but for the most part, there was nothing left save for the burnt rubber rails that used to be windshield wipers.

"I discovered your plot," Clockwerk roared. "My body belongs to _me_, you fool. One whelp already sought to integrate her body into mine and she got herself destroyed. She caused me to be completely defeated. That will _never_ happen again. My body is a temple, you idiot."

"What are you talking about," Sire exclaimed. "I helped to finance your rebirth!"

Clockwerk's eyes shifted from dark orange to a burnt coloration of scarlet. "Just like you 'financed' Slick, Karla and my creator? And now they're all dead; imagine that! Slick informed me of what he'd learned by eavesdropping. He brought me a recording of _your_ voice, Sire. You've always considered me to be your pawn. I am _nobody's pawn_! Steven conspired to kill me after using me as a tool to end your life! You conspired to have me rebuilt only to give my body to another! I killed Steven, leveled that bank and now I'VE COME FOR YOU!"

"Clockwerk!" Sire shouted, his voice sounded hoarse from injury and lack of breath. "If you challenge me, my followers will sweep across you and take you apart piece by piece! If you fight me, my legions of loyal, high ranking political contacts will nuke you, wherever you try to hide! They will bring a war to your front door, you moron! We're not enemies, stop trying to act as though we are!"

Clockwerk's eyes changed to a soft coloration of blue, still flapping in a controlled method to hover. His brain calculated the mathematical formula necessary to provide his body with the correct amount of lift so that he could use his wings to simply hover. Simultaniously, he used a public announcement built into his body to play back the recorded conversation between himself and the posthumous Slick Cooper. The Sire's voice, thin from the micro cassette that Slick had held, was projected into the open air. Sire could hear himself talking about his plans to destroy Steven, leave the clones as fodder once Karla produced a baby, then use Clockwerk's body as a host shell for a new and evil presence. Once the playback ended, Clockwerk's eyes shifted back to the dark coloration of red.

The metallic reborn owl, emotionless from the lack of a HateChip, simply gazed at Sire; no fear in his eyes, no callous grin… only a stern, stoic poker face. "Your purposefulness to me has run out," Clockwerk announced. He then brought his wings together, arching his back a bit. A massive metal feather sprang forth, penetrating the bridge and dicing through Sire's collarbone. The decapitated lion's head dropped to the floor and his body wavered, flopping away from the wheel, crumpling to the deck.

Clockwerk then fired a pulse canon; the round rushed in through the window and connected with something solid inside the bridge. Upon contact, the concentrated energy dispersed in all directions, leveling the entire top half of the conning tower. The intense explosion bested Carmelita's bomb by more than one thousand fold. Everything on the bridge was obliterated and most of the conning section was blown into metallic particles, some landing as far away as downtown Panama City.

Clockwerk then unleashed a mighty flap of his wings, rising up above the burning cinders of the cargo ship. It was time to find the biological version of Steven and finish this once and for all.

* * *

**Carmelita had been joined by Sly Cooper** during the topside diversion. The two stood side by side, looking triumphant. The third artifact was an untarnished golden scarab. It was the size of a fist and trumped the second artifact, a large topaz block, in terms of beauty.

"This would be too large for a broach," Carmelita said with a sigh and a shrug, rolling her shoulders just slightly. "Guess we'll have to destroy this, too. Too bad, so sad, bye-bye." Without warning, the ship rocked again, but this time the noise associated with the occurrence was a screeching sort of sound as if metal was being torn from metal. "What in the heck?" She quipped, tumbling into Sly's arms in reverse.

He quickly slid his paws beneath her arms, wrapping his paws around her tummy; her upper back and shoulders were flush to his chest. "I've gotcha," Sly told her, whispering his warm voice directly against her ears. "Relax. It's probably just…" He trailed off, his ears flickering. Carmelita's own ears perked up and they listened as a strange new sound joined the chaotic dissonance in the background.

The fox strained her ears, listening intently. "Something tells me that… we'd better…" Carmelita's voice quavered, still putting her attention into listening for the strange, growing noise.

"Run?" Sly added, tilting her back up to her feet.

"Yes!" She exclaimed, tearing off down the hall. The third artifact was stuffed into her duffle bag and the zipper was closed. The strap crossed over her shoulders, on the far side of her neck, so that it wouldn't be lost. Sly chased after her, running in the direction opposite of the roaring sound.

Carmelita headed for the elevator, but it was still over one hundred meters away. As they ran, Sly glanced over his shoulder, seeing a massive wall of water pursuing them. The powerful wave yawned at their heels, reaching out for them. Sly instinctively dove forward just as the water connected with his body. It pushed at his feet, projecting him forward. He sucked in a deep breath, becoming consumed by the powerful blast of water.

Carmelita was still running when it connected with her back. It threw her forward, coming flush to her backside and knocking the wind from her lungs. She tumbled forth, being thrown forward. Both of them were swept up in the powerful wave that carried them towards the elevator lift.

Carmelita struggled, feeling the pressure against her chest. She couldn't take a breath, even if she wanted to at this point. Her body felt sandwiched by the pure power of the water which whisked them forward and up, filtering them into the elevator shaft. The elevator platform was large enough to place several school busses, side by side, bumper to bumper. The water filled the shaft, forcing them both up but Carmelita couldn't draw air into her lungs and she felt her body beginning to sink between the weight of the duffle bag and her inability to take a breath.

She struggled but without a way to provide oxygen to her blood, her body was beginning to cramp up as well. She felt light headed and yet the warm water was dragging her downwards, back down the shaft once the current evened out. Her eyes fluttered, trying to stay open; she felt that she was beginning to surrender to the abyss, all too quickly. This _wasn't_ how it was supposed to end…

A distant feeling swept across her hips, encircling them. Her eyes struggled to stay open but she couldn't see Sly and wondered if it was something just dragging her down. She tried to put logic to her thoughts but instead, she blacked out and all became calm. In the last seconds of her consciousness, she felt something clamp around her muzzle, leaving her to wonder if underwater debris had somehow trapped her; she had no rational ability, her mind squandered about for a moment before yielding to the nothingness.

"_Why, Carmelita Montoya, I've never known you to capitulate." _The voice was calm and intelligent. _"I'm a third generation law enforcement officer! My grandfather was commissioner! You will stand up straight and take life by the horns, young lady!" _It was a voice so familiar, but where was it in her every day life? She couldn't seem to place it.

"_I can't do this on my own,"_ she admitted to the void.

"_It's about time you admitted that to yourself,"_ came the reply; stern and yet stoic. An orangish creature faded into view before her eyes. She could make out a bit of a mustache then the smell of blueberries; a tobacco pipe that was incredibly associated with criminal investigation? It surly wasn't Sherlock Holmes. The voice continued, _"You're always so self-sufficient. I guess I blame myself, young lady. Being a police officer means working as a team. You've got to trust your backup with your life if you want to live to see tomorrow. Working as a team, a unit, a group… it's the only way to have a fighting chance against crime or any other obstacle that presents itself to you." _

There, standing before her, was the gentlemanly demeanor of her father. Inspector Fox of San Francisco California. The Inspector had risen through the ranks after leaving Latin America, then he brought his family to San Diego and eventually settled in San Francisco for a few years, while Carmelita went to school in Europe. He placed his paw against her face.

"_Daddy, how are you here? How can I see you?" _Her voice was full of concern, wondering upon her own fate.

"_Young lady, I want you to learn three things,_" He said, releasing a puff of smoke from the corner of his muzzle. "_One, you need to learn how to trust more. If you can't trust, you won't last. I trust your mother and I trust you. I trust my fellow officers and I trust my friends. Second of all, you must learn to open your heart; you always close back up when someone unintentionally hurts your affections. You can't go around feeling sorry for yourself as a single woman, for the rest of your life. Third, don't lie to yourself." _

Carmelita tilted her head, not understanding the last one. "_How am I lying to myself?"_ she asked, approaching her father slowly. He was the one man in her life that she trusted with her whole heart. She knew he would always be there for her and she knew that he was a good provider and full of advice.

Mister Fox just grinned, holding the pipe in his right paw much the same way Carmelita always held her reading glasses out to the side. "_You'll see what I mean; go on, Carmelita Montoya… look for yourself. Open your eyes!" _

Carmelita's eyes opened and she saw something gray but blurry directly before her nose. Something soft and comfortable was pressed against her lips and when she gasped, drawing in breath, the oxygen was there for her lungs. She was still submerged and her senses came to, making her realize that fact. However, she was still able to breathe. How was _that_ possible? She continued to draw breath until her lungs were full.

The blurry gray object in her eyes was something she couldn't comprehend yet. The small metallic object around her waist was still there as well. Suddenly, her mind became clear with the life-saving breath of oxygen. Cooper's mouth was firmly pressed to her own and his cane was hooked about her dainty, hourglass hips. He'd swam down, going after her, and provided her with a breath of air. He used his cane to catch her before she sunk too far and was now lifting her back up the elevator shaft.

Her body was still limp but now that the sensation of having the wind knocked out of her lungs was passing, she instinctively took that first deep breath. Had Sly not been there to provide it, she would have instinctively inhaled water and drown. Not only had he saved her life again but he was there to rescue her from sinking as well. She didn't know what else to do; her arms simply coiled around his waist, allowing him to pull her body back towards the surface.

She kept her muzzle against his the entire time; once they broke the surface, both Sly and Carmelita gasped for fresh air. Mobility returned to her cramped muscles and she began to tread water. The water level continued to rise in the elevator shaft, bringing them closer and closer to the surface.

"We've got to hurry," Sly told her, after taking several deep breaths. "When this ship sinks in the Canal, the suction will pull us both down with it. When we reach the top, we'll have to run. Somehow, we'll make it over to the dock. Let me carry you; do you trust me?"

"Carry me?" she balked, still panting for the fresh air. "_You_ carry _me_?"

"Carmelita Montoya," Sly said sternly, "I need you to learn to trust me."

She suddenly gasped, blinking at him with wide amber eyes. "What did you just call me?" Before he could answer, she added, "I'll trust you, Sly. Don't betray that trust, I don't give it freely. I… I don't know why but… I think a part of me, deep down, thinks that it's the right thing to do."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Sly with a firm nod. He then smiled at her and added, "I'm the only one of us who can walk across the mooring rope, so I'll need you to hold still when I'm carrying you. I've never carried someone while tight rope walking before."

"I…" Carmelita frowned. She wanted to tell him that she'd find her own way across to the dock but something inside of her still wanted to offer him the benefit of the doubt for some reason. She finally said, "I'll stay still; I trust you."

"I'm glad to hear it," Cooper replied. Just as the water became even with the topside deck, the large building at the center of the ship began to teeter forward. It crashed into the front of the ship, significantly shifting the weight. Water suddenly began to drain from the elevator shaft as the entire back end of the ship lifted into the sky. The stress at the center caused a massive crack to appear in the hull, further up towards the middle of the vessel.

Sly snagged the lip of the deck and, with his other paw, held tightly to his cane which still had Carmelita by the waist. The water continued to drop, leaving them hanging, suspended in air at the top of the elevator shaft. Falling would surly be lethal. "If you let me go, my ghost will arrest you, I swear it," she shouted up at him.

Cooper was far more serious for once. "Climb up my back, over my shoulders, and onto the deck. Quick!" Sly shouted. Carmelita did as she was told and began to climb over his body. She placed her paws upon his shoulders; her tummy and chest flush against his back. She then encircled his waist with her legs, trying to inch upwards.

"Didn't you do this to _me_ once?" Carmelita asked, referring to the Australian outback, when she'd come across the Mask of Dark Earth (A/N: _Sly 3 Game_). "I guess it's time I returned the favor," she added, placing her elbows upon his shoulders and worming her way up over his back. Her knees were on either side of his upper torso now, just beneath his arms. Her belly was pressed against the back of his head. She then lifted her right leg and hooked it over his right shoulder then did the same with her left. She inched forward a bit more until she was literally sitting on top of his head. "Almost there," she told him, reaching her paws for the lip of the deck.

"If I wasn't starting to lose my grip, I'd really be enjoying this," Sly told her in return, lifting his other arm to try and hook his cane against the lip of the shaft's opening. Carmelita drew her knees up then placed her shins against his shoulders, shifting her weight until her feet were against his right bicep and his head. She pushed her body upwards, spilling over the side and onto the deck, panting madly.

Sly struggled further as the ship tilted higher and higher, until he was literally hanging from his cane in the open air. He then used his upper body strength to pull himself up over the lip until he was lying besides her. His panting joined hers in a chorus only for him to break into relieved laughter. She was equally elated but both knew that they had to hurry and get off the ship.

Suddenly a massive noise filled their ears as the crack in the hull continued all the way through the center of the ship. The aft section suddenly dropped, leaving them to cling to one another. It slammed into the water creating an enormous splash; the front end of the ship rolled forward and began to sink straight to the bottom. Sly cut his gaze over to the mooring rope that still ran down to the dock.

His gaze then cut across the deck to the view of the ship's seperated bow. All the ropes snapped and it continued on its short journey to the bottom of the Panama Canal. He stood up quickly, dipped his paw beneath her legs and his other paw beneath her shoulder blades and lifted her up. She reached for his cane and her duffle bag, pulling both up into her arms, leaving them to rest across her chest. He then carried her to the other end of the deck and stepped out onto the rope. "Still trust me?" asked Sly.

"I trust you. Hurry, Ringtail," she said in an eerily soft voice. "I believe in you; we can do this… together."

Sly nodded to her words and began to walk out onto the rope. Several feet out, he simply said, "With everything else that's happened, this rope should break at any second."

"If you jinx us," she snapped in a scolding voice. "Tell you what," Carmelita said, quickly changing her tone and her subject, "If you get us to safety I'll make it worth your while, comprende?"

"Si," Sly replied with a slight grin. He carefully made his way out across the rope, one foot in front of the other. The remainder of the ship was pulling against the rope, causing it to become firmer which made it easier to walk on. Sly picked up his pace just slightly, finally nearing the dock that ran alongside of the canal lock channel system.

"Almost there," she said, hope beginning to show in her voice. "This rope had better not break; it would be _too_ cliché, the rope _always_ freakin' breaks."

Sly was only a few feet from the dock now. He was careful, placing one foot in front of the other. The rope creaked softly, straining against the mooring clamp on the dock; the back end of the ship began to lower into the water. A bubbling spray was blasted into the air, causing a fine mist to moisten their already sodden clothes and fur. Carmelita clinched her arm around his neck and tightened her muscles, readying herself for anything.

Sly stepped onto the dock with a sudden sigh of relief and he kept on walking, holding her in his arms. "We made it!" he exclaimed, adding, "See, you can trust me! We're safe; we thought the rope would break because that sort of thing always happens and yet, here we are!"

"Sly, you've earned it," she told him, reaching up to his face and pulling his head down to meet hers. Her lips were firmly pressed to his own and she made sure it would be a kiss he wouldn't soon forget. Her toes curled, her tail fluttered and she practically swooned, pushing away the embarrassment of her blush.

Her paws tightened against his cheeks, deepening the kiss as passionately as she could offer. After a moment or two, she released his face and broke the lip lock. Her paw lifted, brushing away sodden indigo tendrils which framed her face in a mishmash of messy curls dripping with water. They partially obscured her face, giving her a coquettish look, which caused Sly to turn red. He grinned away the fact that he was blushing but there was no doubt that he was suddenly lighter on his feet after the kiss.

"After all," Carmelita told him, "I lost the bet, huh? Anyway, that's my way of thanking you for being chivalrous to me for once in your lifetime. The least I could do is put a little pep in your step."

Sly's grin melted into a broad smile as he carried the woman of his heart across the deck; behind them, the remainder of the third cargo ship sank within the canal; the ropes snapped and the entire aft section continued straight to the bottom. "Goodness, I should be a gentleman to you more often!"

"Don't get any ideas," she warned, adding a flirty wink. "I'm ...just ...in shock that I nearly died; I'll be my normal, nasty self tomorrow morning. I promise; it will all go back to the way things were."

"We can't stop just yet," Sly said to her. "Clockwerk is still at large and it's up to us to stop him. Then, when I'm totally sure that the dust cloud has settled… I'm going to make you wear my engagement ring."

"Oh, is that so?" Carmelita tilted her head and held a mock glare, cocking one eyebrow at him. "I've worked so long to catch you and all I had to do was tame you with a kiss? I thought it would be far harder than just one kiss."

"You know," Sly said with a thoughtful tone. "I think we've saved one another's life more times in the last few days than I can count."

Carmelita furrowed both brows now, just looking at him with a semi-amused smirk. "I thought all thieves were good at counting; how else could they know how much money they have?"

Jokingly, Sly Cooper yawned then told her, "If you're better at stealing then you are at counting, why bother?"

"_If_ we _do_ start dating again," Carmelita said slowly, drawing out the last word for a moment. She smirked, looked away from him, then said, "and _if_ I catch you stealing during the relationship… I will lock you in the deepest, darkest cell on Earth. You won't even know what day of the week it is, Sly Cooper. Don't you forget it; I'll arrest you so fast, your head will spin."

"I remember," Sly replied, adding, "Unless it's stealing for Interpol or in a world-saving situation… I'm not allowed to do it. I heard you before; I _do_ listen when you talk, Carmelita Fox. I know you may not think I do, but I never ignore you."

"Glad to hear it, Ringtail," she said, kicking her legs up and out of his arm. Her feet dropped to the dock and she stepped out of his arms. "For some reason, you're always more romantic in my mind than you are in real life. Why is that?"

"Who says I'm not romantic?" Sly asked, coming to follow suite, behind her. "And what do you mean by 'in your mind' Carmelita? Do you mean in your _dreams_?"

"Ha!" she scoffed. "Who says I _dream_ about you? I was merely making a generalized statement, Cooper."

"I'll tell you what," Sly said, placing his paw against the small of her back as they walked. He reached into her arms and took his cane from her, leaving her with the duffle bag. "When this whole thing is over, I'll look you up and I'll romance your socks off and sweep you off your feet."

Carmelita gave him a sharp yet devious look. "Socks had better be the _only_ things that come off, Sly Cooper. Some things are meant to wait until marriage, Mister."

Sly simply smiled as they continued on towards the parking lot in the general distance. "Are you really considering my offer to date again?"

"Again," she said in an aristocratic tone of voice. "I'm merely making a generalized statement, Cooper. So do us both a favor and behave." Her tone remained aloof and semi-detached but both knew that she was just acting.

"Oh, I'm behaving," Sly promised with a smile. "But if it makes you feel any better, I dream about you too. Now let's find Clockwerk and finish him off!"

"Good enough, let's hurry!" Carmelita said, increasing her pace. Sly hung back to rake his eyes over her feminine form with an inward smile then increased his own pace to follow her. All the while, Carmelita continued speaking. "The cruiser is this way; we have a lot of ground to cover and we've got to find out if Bentley and Penelope are okay; we'll need their help in figuring out how to stop that metal monstrosity." She then saw the look in his eyes when she left out one of the members of his gang. She then quickly added, "And Murray too. Let's go!"

* * *

A/N: _Holy Strawberries, Batman, were they in a jam! Okay that was lame. So, like, was it action packed? I rewrote this dang chapter after being nearly 8 thousand words into it… All I had was dialogue and flirting! Dang! So I started over, fresh, with action worthy of this being considered a CLIMATIC CHAPTER! And I wrote the whole thing in a solid four to five hours of time; i just blazed through it. Heck, maybe closer to three or so hours. Anyway... _

_There are a few subtle hints in this chapter that lead in to what will happen in the SEQUEL. Not just the flirting but an actual plot hint. GASP! Yes, Sire is gone forever. The only one who remains is Steven (not the clone version). And remember, Steven's body is as mortal as can be… he simply used his 'genius' to disengage the 'aging' gene so that his body, instead of breaking down and showing signs of age, will continue to reproduce fresh healthy skin cells and all that yadda, so that he can simply live forever. All it takes to kill that weakling is a mere penknife. _

_At any rate, I'm glad you're all reading this; I hope everyone is enjoying it! The next chapter is THE VERY LAST CHAPTER OF THIS STORY! It ends with Chapter 30! We're finally done and it went on WAY longer than I'd originally intended! Thank you all for reading thusfar and THANK you for goading me on to keep going. I appreciate it! _

_This story has a lot of feedback, a lot of hits, a lot of words and a lot of …stuff! My next story will be equally as engaging in the realm of infinite possibilities but I won't have people dying and coming back through time to save themselves or any of that crazy paradox stuff that confuses everyone. No, my sequel will be a lot more "in your face" with straight up action, drama and romance. _

_I know, some of you are going "AW MA-A-AN! ROMANCE? WHAT THE HECK!" but it's going to be one heck of a dramatic rollercoaster ride that will test the boundaries of the heart in some respects. It's going to have powerful passion and moments of calming, tender love. Then it will be back to skull cracking and butt kicking. That's how I roll :D_

_See you at the next chapter! Wee!_

_-KIT _


	30. Spy Cooper Prologue!

A/N: I had an idea about how I want to extend this storyline. It's a pretty epic idea and so, technically, in the grand scheme of things… this _entire story_ is only the _prologue_ of Sly and Carmelita's adventure in striking down the brand new Clockwerk and stopping his new, emotionless desire to simply cause chaos.

This chapter will be a little Anti-Climatic because I don't want to block myself from any future opportunities in the sequel. I wanted to put up a short, sweet chapter and leave it at that. That way, we can get right to the sequel because I have all these dang ideas that keep popping up in my head.

Also, I make some dedications at the end. Anyway I just want you all to know that I'm writing this chapter short and open on purpose because I've already got the first two chapters written of the sequel and I'm halfway into the third… You can look at this chapter as a sort of Epilogue for this story, or as a PROLOGUE for the sequel story!

* * *

Chapter -30-  
Prologue?

**The initials on the suitcase said P.K.** and nothing more. The hard-shell suitcase was placed upon the ground at the ankles of a flashy set of red boots. From the ankles up, a fireproof ultra latency protective suit with flashy yellow flames licked up the side of muscular calves which conformed into powerful thighs. The yellow and red found its way to laces of blue and white until expanding outwardly to the semi rotund and rather bulky frame of… none other than…

"Panda King here," came the somewhat aloof voice. His gloved paw was to his ear, speaking into a communicator. "I am here; it appears that this is the location where the police are detaining and interrogating Bentley, Murray and Penelope."

"Do you know if they're all right?" asked the thin voice over the earpiece.

King replied, "Yes, Cooper, they are well. I saw them being pulled out of the rubble with my own eyes." Panda King lowered his gaze to the ground directly in front of the large building and sighed. He then asked, "Sly Cooper, I have a personal favor to ask at the expense of sounding selfish." His baritone voice was melodic and calm.

"Go on, big guy," Sly replied over the communication line.

"Wait until my arrival to attack Clockwerk," Panda stated. "He is my old ally and I was manipulated to his band of wickedness with the promise of greatness. I began my greatest downward spiral under his tutelage and I wish to have a hand in his destruction. As far as I am concerned, his legacy ended in the fiery lava pits of Russia. I seek closure on that chapter of my past. Could you grant me participation in the attack?"

"Relax," Cooper said over the earpiece. "We can't even begin to start a plan until you and the gang arrives on location. Carmelita hit him with a Rocket Propelled Anti-Tank round and it didn't even scratch him."

King contemplated just how to reply for a moment. Finally, he just shook his head a bit. What else could he do? "Understood. I've been meditating on this for some time," Panda explained. "Cooper, if Clockwerk isn't defeated tomorrow or even the next day or even next week, I want you to remember one important thing…"

"Yeah?" Sly's voice was scratchy sounding from the piggy-back transmission that was being sent over seas.

Panda told him, "Whether or not you are in a relationship with Carmelita Fox, if she dies you will mourn her. If you die, she will mourn you. Avoiding romance with her until Clockwerk has been defeated is time squandered and lost. You're in love with her and her loss will devastate you, even if you've distanced yourself from a relationship. It's better to have loved and lost then never to have loved at all. And on that note, your chances of defeating him increase exponentially if you fight him together. I was once evil and know from experience: The power of truth and love defeat the ways of wickedness. After all, it is thanks to you that I am a changed man."

"Well, you had to change for yourself and your daughter, too. We all grow up sometime. Anyhow," said Sly over the communicator, "Let me know if there are any road bumps in the 'extraction' process. Carmelita tells me that the most they can do is hold Bentley for twenty-four hours because they have nothing tying him to the destruction of the bank; they probably can't even figure out the group's first names yet. Anyhow, be careful in there; an assault on a police precinct is a dangerous idea."

"Leave it to me, Sly Cooper. King… _out_." Panda King closed the communication and began to load up his backpack with explosives, sizing up the main doors using only his knowledge and expertise in the field of demolitions. As much as Panda preferred to take a peaceful approach to life, using meditation and ancient Chinese relaxation techniques …his true love for life was in doing what he knew best: _explosives_.

In his last meditation, he had a vision of Sly Cooper fighting Clockwerk. He saw that it came down to something that Sly possessed but didn't understand: A set of dense pearls, handed down from a doppelganger from the future. Somehow, those pearls were the answer to fighting the metallic monstrosity but how to get close enough to use them… that would be the tricky part.

For now, he had to put his mind and his attention on rescuing Bentley and the other two. The longer they sat in holding, the harder it would be to stop Clockwerk. Panda closed his left paw, pushing in on a special button sewn into his suit. It primed the charger in his backpack then he leaned forward and released the button. Two rockets burst free of the tube on his back and slammed into the double doors. They were blown from the hinges, clattering noisily down the hallway, inside the building.

Panda marched forward, strolling straight into the lion's den with a leisurely gait. Two cops from rooms on the immediate left and right hand side stepped into the hallway, drawing their sidearm. King reached out to either side of himself, snatched the officers by their throats then crossed his arms hard, hurling each man into the opposite room.

He continued down the hallway, then paused for a moment. His eyes landed on an unused Kevlar vest sitting on a bench in a recreation room and snatched it. King then continued back down the main corridor, stepping over the two crumpled doors on the floor. A triumvirate of officers emerged from a doorway at the end of the hall, drawing their weapons. King lifted the bulletproof vest, sliding his left fist through the armholes. He held it up like a knight of old would wield a shield, deflecting handgun bullets, still pushing forward down the hallway.

Upon reaching the three cops, he swung his left arm out, smacking the first officer in the face. Panda followed through by delivering a right hook into the second cop, who tumbled back into the third, bringing both to the floor. The large panda snatched up the third officer from the floor, slammed him up against the ceiling then dropped him back to the ground.

Stepping over the three dazed men, King continued into the door they'd come from. He paused at an intersection and glanced from left to right, trying to surmise where Bentley would be held. He was unable to read the Czech signs on the walls. Panda took a deep breath, inhaling through his nose. Due to the lack of hippos and turtles in this region, the scent of Bentley and Murray made it easy to assume which way to go. He turned to the left, narrowing his eyes as two more cops came from further down the hall.

Panda quickly stuffed another rocket into his backpack then doubled over, aiming it straight down the corridor. He fired it quickly for a direct hit against the torso of his enemy. The rocket continued on down the hall, sweeping the two men off their feet and carrying them twenty more feet until it exploded. The force of the concussion left them both unconscious and fairly singed.

It was difficult to detect the scent of his targets with the addition of burnt fur but, luckily for the large black and white bear, the interrogation room was only halfway down the hall, on the right hand side. King kicked in the door and waved for them. "Come; we must hurry! Cooper needs our assistance in the defeat of Clockwerk. They're most likely in peril until our arrival; come with me."

"All right!" Murray roared boisterously. "The Calvary is here!"

King turned about, there in the doorway, loading more explosives into his backpack. He then doubled over, aiming the tube further down the hall and fired with a high concentration of charge. Three rockets went flying from the backpack and hit a brick wall at the end of the hallway. They exploded, blasting a massive hole in the concrete that led outside. "There is our escape point, hurry!" He pointed down the hall.

Bentley, with his bionic legs, took off running with Penelope and Murray following suite. Panda escorted them outside where several police cruisers were just arriving on scene. They skidded to a halt with several drivers hopping out and taking up positions behind the vehicles, drawing their weapons.

Panda narrowed his eyes and said, "Head back towards your last Safe House. My daughter waits upon the rooftop with a helicopter and a hired pilot. We must make haste!"

"What about the cops?" Bentley cried, still running towards the nearest alley.

King gave a tug at his suit's specialized gloves causing them to creak softly. "I'll meet you shortly; leave the law enforcement to _me_."

Several shots rang out with bullets hissing through the air. Panda held up his left fist, using the bulletproof vest to absorb at least one of the pistol rounds. "Go, now!" Bentley, Penelope and Murray were quick to do as they were told, taking off into a sprint. They dashed across the next alley and disappeared in a hurry. Panda then turned towards the group of police officers, standing at the corner of the precinct and began to load his explosive backpack. Clinching his left paw into a tight fist, the charger began to prime…

More shots ripped through the air; one caught Panda across his ankle only managing to clip his suit and tear the fabric and his fur, beneath. He released his left fist and a barrage of missiles fired straight up into the air. They soared back down to earth in a volley of explosive charges that struck one of the police cruisers.

The gas tank simultaneously erupted, causing the car to lift into the sky; police officers scattered, falling back. Panda let off another volley of rockets which crashed to the ground, causing more devastation. He then stuffed several smoke grenades into the tube mounted on his back then fired them into the air. They hit the street, spewing a veil of thick dust and smoke. Once he felt that his escape route was secured, he took off in the same direction that the other three had run.

He wouldn't be able to outrun the cops forever, especially in his flashy suite. For now, all he had to do was make it to the helicopter. From there, they would have to get out of Czechoslovakia.

* * *

Meanwhile…

**Sly dove forward and the world seemed to slow to a crawl **around him. His eyes and mind werehyper focused. His arms opened, heading towards Carmelita, who was running directly in front of him. His paws came together, encircling her waist; his weight was added to her own inertia and he jerked his body to the left, tackling her down. From the way he twisted his frame to the left side, they hit the ground simultaneously, with his hip taking the brunt of the force. His right leg slid up over her side, protectively, trying to enshroud her without slamming her onto her face or chest.

A large energy round passed overtop of them, harmlessly, until it collided with something solid, way off in the distance. Clockwerk's shadow swooped by and continued on in passing. Two American Coast Guard ships had come up the Canal to intercept the large metallic owl who was now to blame for the destruction of multiple cargo ships and half of the Canal docking network.

They were firing rockets at Clockwerk which only hindered his pace to some degree. None of the attacks had damaged the machine thus far. Mortar fire could be heard in the background and antiaircraft flack cannons caused little round gray spots to hang in the air where the rounds had exploded without a target.

Now even the media was getting in on the action, labeling Panama City as a war zone, referring to Clockwerk as "an unknown, unidentified flying object on the attack." The dock workers had cleared the area and the local police were busy trying to stop panic while organizing evacuations. The area was in complete chaos.

Two F-16 jet fighters were holding a dog fight with the multitasking monster but Clockwerk's new processing unit was far too advanced. He'd already struck down an attack chopper and he was still holding his own against the fighter planes with relative ease. The owl swooped about in a loop, coming to bare on a fighter jet that came up behind him. He went into an intense dive and smashed right through the back of the jet, destroying it. The pilot's ejection seat popped and a tiny parachute became visible in the skyline.

"We'd better find a place to hide," Sly said, still holding Carmelita on the ground. "The sewers are sounding like a good place; I don't think ole' Clocky'll be able to fit into a manhole."

"Good idea, let's go!" Carmelita said, wiggling out from beneath him. She got to her feet and took off for the nearest intersection, halfway down the street. Right in the center was a pair of manholes. "Sly, bring your cane over here and pry this off!" she called back.

Sly took off after her, drawing his cane from his belt. He jammed the handle down into a small metal section of the manhole lid and pried it free. Carmelita slid down into the opening, dropping into the ankle-deep water, far below. Sly snatched the metal lid and pulled it back over the opening after entering the sewer, right behind her.

Cooper slid from the ladder and practically landed right in Carmelita's lap, his tail wedged between her knees. He broke into a fit of relieved laughter after hearing two more explosions up on the topside. "What a rush!" he exclaimed. "God I hope we burry that thing soon. That way I can get back to concentrating on _us_."

"Geeze, you're such a flirt!" she chuckled in response to his delightful sounding laughter. "He's going to be a lot harder to defeat this time. Whacking him with your cane and shooting him with a deck gun mounted on the back of a chopper isn't going to cut it this time around."

"Yeah," Sly nodded in agreement. "No kidding; he's a beast this time. That Steven guy built him to last, for sure."

A third voice joined the conversation. "Every creature has a weak point. The problem is when your enemy's weak point is a weapon that is beyond your ability to obtain… or worse, a weapon that hasn't been invented yet."

Both Sly and Carmelita looked up, gasping in shock at the visage of a weary looking skunk. He wore a fedora and a trench coat, complete with waterproof boots. "I'll move on again, reinvent myself and change my name once more," the skunk continued, adding, "That's why I didn't want to have a part in rebuilding Clockwerk. He was something from my past. Now that Sire is dead, it's time to begin yet a new chapter of my life. Perhaps my next goal is a cure for the common cold; who knows? You know, it's quite a coincidence to have met you both in this fashion…"

"Oh yeah, how so?" Carmelita snapped, narrowing her eyes at him and barring her teeth.

Steven smiled a bit and said, "Because I intended to use the sewer system to locate you both, without endangering myself."

Sly chuckled inwardly. "And we just dropped in right in front of you, huh?"

Steven nodded. "As if destiny, herself, had a hand in this," he agreed. "I couldn't help but let that clone have his way, rebuilding Clockwerk. It was like having a son; watching him chase his dreams and watching the evolution of his derangements, like reverting to archaic tongue… he was striving to be unique… to be his own person. I thought he was magnificent. And now I understand parenthood a bit more: If you give your children their way and support every little whim without providing consequences… they'll fail at everything. I should have provided guidance and gave him goals. I should have banned him from restoring Clockwerk. Now he's dead and it's too late for him to learn his lesson. I feel completely responsible for all of this."

"Well," Sly sat up, climbing out of Carmelita's lap. "You can still take responsibility by helping us to stop Clockwerk before more people die needlessly."

Steven tilted his head. "You have the answer in your pocket, Mister Cooper. A string of stolen pearls that were fashioned from metal found in a meteor in the Tenth Century. They were retrieved from the Moravian Hills, two centuries before the Christian Crusades. They were fashioned into pearls from the metal found within the meteor and given to a pope who was rumored to be female. Whether he was a she remains to be seen. The golden artifact Miss Fox has in her bag is part of that."

"Pardon?" Carmelita asked, furrowing her brows. "The scarab?"

"The golden _locust_," Steven said flatly, "Was made from the bodies of the locust that appeared in the British Sea. It had six wings and powerful teeth. It appeared in France as an Anti Miracle after three days of raining blood. They were gathered by the handful and thrown into heated gold then molded into the large golden locust… _not_ a scarab. The anti-miracle gives it the power to be used as an artifact that would be necessary in reviving the Devil. But…"

Cooper found himself intrigued by this little history lesson and quickly asked, "But what?"

"It's all legend," Steven replied with an airy chuckle. "Who knows if it even works? All the artifacts are tied to some measure of anti-miracle and have never been assembled correctly so… no one knows if it's anything more than a tale; not even remembered well enough to be retold on the Internet. Some of these artifacts even became cultural icons."

"Like what?" Carmelita inquired, coming to her feet. She took her tail into her paws and wrung it out like a wet towel.

"For starters, the spear of Longinus and things like the pearls of the rumored Pope Johanna, also known as John the Eighth. The golden Locust made from golden locusts that caused death and a short term of famine in France. It's most likely nothing more than hocus pocus, Miss Fox. See, I was alive when these artifacts were floating around the public world in the hands of Roman politicians. I was known as Niall back then." He gave a slight smile, recalling his name which was pronounced 'Neal.'

"We can use the pearls to stop Clockwerk, right?" Sly asked.

"They're made from a metal which has properties not unlike Uranium or Plutonium. However, they don't emit radiation except when shot into itself to create something I like to call "Anti-Fission." Instead of implosion on a nuclear level, it _explodes_, creating negative Dark Matter which I like to call "Anti-Matter" because a temporary rip occurs in that location of Space-Time."

"Whoa, whoa," Sly cried, holding his paws up. He took his own tail and gave it a half-squeezing twist. "Stop while you're ahead, chief. Can you explain it in a common terminology?"

"Very well," Steven huffed, shaking his head slightly. "Do you know the basic concept of a Black Hole in space?"

"Yeah," Carmelita chimed in. "They're inside-out tunnels created with gravity. They're so strong, they can even bend or suck in a ray of light. Why?"

Steven nodded in reply to her definition. "Imagine, if you will, a miniature Black Hole that lasts for a few seconds."

"Okay, I follow ya so far," Carmelita said.

"If one of these pearls are shot into the other pearl, the theoretical result is an invisible vortex that would draw the intended target and anything up to a kilometer away into a void. Whether it's another universe, another section of _this_ universe, or whether this target is simply swept under the so-called "Carpet of life" like a bit of dirt on a living room floor, where they are asphyxiated and simply cease to exist… no one knows for sure. The point is, it will surly destroy Clockwerk. …If it works. But according to my studies and research, it should do the trick. Building a detonation device that fires one pearl into the center of another at a high velocity… now _that_ is the trick. I'm unable to ascertain the velocity necessary to achieve the chain reaction. Also, it's not my problem. I plan to disappear and reinvent myself. Even Clockwerk won't know where I am or how to locate me."

Sly and Carmelita remained silent, just gawking at him. Steven then added, "I'm sure there are other ways to defeat this Clockwerk but those pearls in your pocket," he said, pointing at Sly's waist, "They would work nicely. They would banish him from existence forever. Now, I've said my peace," the skunk told them with a firm nod. "I now take my leave! I wish you well in the destruction of your enemies. Please don't be insulted if neither of you never hear from me again."

Sly offered a weak sort of smile. "Thanks for the advice, I guess."

"Thank you," Steven replied. "For helping me to learn that my place in life is not among the Supernatural Immortals and the strange ways of their secret societies. Their life-long squabbles are beneath me. Fare thee well." The memphit then offered a smile and turned away from them, walking back down the sewer tunnel until he was gone.

"That was kinda weird," Sly said, turning his attention back to Carmelita.

"How in the hell does he know so much about everything?" She simply asked. "He can clone people, he can build an immortal machine, long before the first watch was invented, he learned how to deactivate his aging genes, before a microscope was even conceived. Now …this? What a freak."

Sly nodded then said, "Yeah but anything is worth trying in regards to stopping Clockwerk."

"We'd better return to France," Carmelita simply said. "Bentley is going to need this pearls and he's going to need time to sit in his lab and figure this whole thing out. Hey," she added at the end, "Do you hear that?"

Sly tilted his head. "Hear what?"

"Exactly," Carmelita replied. "The fighting has stopped. I've not heard any explosions since we came across that skunk guy. Do you think Clockwerk flew the coup?

"It's possible," Sly admitted with a light shrug. "What's the plan?"

"I've got a job to reacquire and you've got some homework to do," Carmelita told him with a firm nod. "I want this whole thing to be over with but I think we're going to need to sit down and really prepare for this. Who knows how long Clockwerk will stay quiet. Something tells me that he wants those artifacts, too. Call the gang and have them meet us in France. I'll start figuring out where we can hide the three artifacts we have so far. Destroying them is our second option. I want to know what we're up against, concerning their existence. After a few questions are answered, we'll figure out how to destroy'em."

Cooper nodded emphatically. "Sounds like a plan. Sire's dead, Steven is going to disappear from everyone's life forever. Now that everything is quiet up there, I've gotta wonder if we won. Who knows, maybe they blew up Clockwerk. If not, then yeah… we've gotta get back to France and help Bentley figure out a plan of action." He then grinned at her and said, "I'll figure out the details on Clockwerk then we can concentrate on dating again, you know?"

"Maybe," Carmelita said, drawing the word out slowly a second time in a row. "Do you really still love me?"

"That will never change," Sly replied bluntly. "Love you, _in love_ with you, obsessed with you… whatever. I just want to make sure my future doesn't mirror that of my mother and father. I have plans to celebrate my seventy-fifth wedding anniversary."

Carmelita's muzzle contorted into a wry grin. "You plan to live long enough to see one hundred years old, huh?"

Sly leaned forward as if to offer a kiss. "Only if _you_'re around. Life would be awfully boring without you." Carmelita backed away from him.

"Please, Sly. We're covered in sewage." She placed her paw on his face, pushing his muzzle back. "Let's go get cleaned up then we can go _home_."

Cooper nodded then said, "Sounds like a good idea. Just give me a few days to figure out what Clockwerk is up to. I want to know that you and I are safe and all that jazz. Don't worry, it'll give you a little time to get your job affairs in order. I'll call you when everything is shipshape. Then we'll figure everything out."

"Geeze, Sly," Carmelita chuckled awkwardly. "It's not like I said I wanted to go back out with you _tomorrow_." Secretly, she felt a little put off by his strange demeanor. It was obvious that his focus now returned to tracking down Clockwerk and what his options were. She then turned away from him and said, "Head back to France, Ringtail. I'll see you there. Stay out of trouble; I'll be watching the police bulletins for your name. I mean it."

"Good luck with Chief Barkley," Sly said calmly, watching her head for the ladder. "I do love you, Carmelita."

"You're acting awfully strange," she snapped in reply, taking the rungs into her paws. She began to ascend, heading for the manhole cover, up above. "I always think you're about to show me a romantic side, then you get all goofy about the stupid metal owl. You'd better learn how to get over him or you're destined to be a lonely man forever. Anyway, stay out of trouble or I'll kick your tail from Normandy to the French Riviera and back."

"All right. I've got to call Bentley and the gang and divert them to France. We have a lot of work cut out for us. Don't worry; I'll stay out of the spotlight. Good luck getting your job back, Inspector Fox."

"_Inspector Fox_?" Carmelita cried incredulously.

Sly blinked at her. "What? Aren't you proud of being who you are? Didn't you want to get your job back the entire time? Isn't that why you're helping me, so you can get your badge back and clear your name by stopping Sire?" He watched her ascend the ladder until she was at the top, heaving the manhole cover back off. She glared back down at him, almost gawking at the raccoon.

She couldn't get _him_ out of her head and she despised him for it. Did she love him or did she hate him? Finally she found her voice and all she could manage was, "You're a bastard, Sly Cooper."

* * *

A/N: _For some reason, I thought it would be really clever to end with the exact same sentence I use to end chapter 1! Weee_ :) _Call me strange but… yeah. Now… _

_It's time for a quick rant before I post chapter one of the sequel! _

_First of all, I'd like to apologize for this anti-climatic chapter! I didn't want the first story to end in a make-out scene or with marriage or with SlyXCarme babies. LOL_

_That's not good drama! That's rushing to the happy ending for the sake of fitting everything into a 2 hour motion picture! This is literature dang it! I can make a 53 sequel epic if I want to! Hehe_

_Being that I'm in a rush to post this, I decided I'm too lazy to do a very detailed editorial job! ONOES! _

_For every mistake you find, you may throw one roll of toilet paper at my bedroom window. At any rate, let's get back to that long Author's Note rant thingy so I can get ready to post the first chapter of the sequel! XD_

LAMENT OF CARMELITA

Dedication

This story is dedicated to those that got me into the series, those who read my stories, those that told their friends to read my stories and those that had the patience to help me become a better writer with every chapter. I also want to dedicate this to those of you who started writing via text-based role playing; that's how I got MY start! Lol.

For those of you who read my story and compare yourselves, I want you to know that when I was 15 and 16, I wasn't nearly half as good as most of you are now. I just kept writing; my perseverance is because of those who kept telling me they liked my imagination and my description writing.

For those of you who told me that I write my details like a painter puts colors on a canvas.

For those of you who told me that my writing would be perfect if I just made some small changes for the better.

For those of you who happened to be upset or unhappy one day then smile the next, just because I uploaded and, for those of you who went out of their way to make me feel good by letting me know about it.

For everyone who wants to read my stories, especially those who read it _just because_.

For those of you who are aspiring writers and for those of you who are accomplished but still took a moment to read something I wrote… and, MOST OF ALL, for those of you who took a moment out of your day, your personal time, just to write me, email me, or review my work… _THANK YOU_.

It means a lot and helps me to continue on!

Finally, I'd also like to dedicate this story to Christy Carpenter. I know we've not seen eye to eye and I know the marriage was short. But if it wasn't for her telling me that I should take what I'm doing and keep it up, I might have given up on it a _very_ long time ago. What can I say? When you marry an English teacher and she says, "I love your writing, please don't stop," it really gives a guy inspiration to start typing. Even if it's not always happy romance. Even if it's not the same style of fantasy that she adores. Even if we're not always seeing eye to eye… she'd always tell me that my drumming and writing were things that she really believed in, even when there were other influences in my life being total nay-sayers about it.

Even when she says to leave her alone, she still tells me that she could pick up one of my stories and get lost in its pages. I may be a lousy husband but she was the one who told me to stick with what I'm good at before telling me that I was good at story telling. Whether or not you agree with her about my writing ability doesn't really matter. I'm going to give it a shot anyhow! If you don't like it, don't buy my first book when it's on the shelves, hehe.

HUGGLES TO ALL MY READERS! I would list all of their names but I don't have to… you can see them for yourselves! Simply click on my reviews for this story and scroll down the pages of those who reviewed! Without your support, I wouldn't have had the motivation to keep going. This story is a quarter of a million words. This story has more reviews than anything else I've written to date. This story is longer than anything else I've written to date.

Finally, I'd like to thank Octavarius Kaiser Scott. Yes, without him there would be no Lament Of Carmelita. It's true! He and I were having such a ball with emailing one another a list of insults about one another's mothers and one another's intellect… that when he said "…And I bet you can't even write, anyhow!" I decided to hammer out what would eventually become CHAPTER ONE of this very story.

I sent it to him; he liked it and put his honest feelings regarding it before the insult war. Next thing you know, BAAAAAAAM. We're pals. Then I posted it, went out and bought the games, then … well, you all know the rest. You've all just read the last 30 chapters so… you know what happened next… I spent a gross amount of time writing about Sly Cooper

:D

Ironically, I posted the first chapter in November of 2005. Now it's November of 2006 and I'm finally finished. It took a YEAR to write this story, because I had my attention split between this and several StarFox stories, while going through a Divorce and moving several times while being broke and taking a short hiatus to write non-fanfiction related stuff… Anyway… THANKS FOR STICKING WITH ME!

Now, check out that sequel

:D

Yours truly,

**_Kit Karamak_**


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